cold
by angstyaddict
Summary: Ryan is having issues and he might be killed it's kind of gangrelated, but he knows he has to do this thing alone and keep the Cohens out of it. Short Chapters. My sweet peeps...27 27 27 CHAPTER 27! Is in your FACE! Yeah!
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, my OCFs, this is not my first OC fanfic; I've written several, and now I've lost track of them, however, this is my first fanfic that I've put on this site. I adore ryan angst, and I can't really stand romance or too many twists, so hang with me. here goes. **

**Disclaimer: I own nothing except Art, and no, Art is not a shorter name for Teresa's boyfriend in the real show. Art is my own character, a buddy of Ryan's from when Ryan went to juvy at age eleven.**

Gray smoke escaped from between his cold and trembling lips. He lowered the cigarette and grabbed the back of his clammy neck. He was covered in a nervous sweat, and his eyes had never seemed so distant. He had been trying to explain to another man what was going on, but could barely make the words come out.

"It's like, shit'll never be the same, you know?" He continued after a short break. "Sorry, I guess you probably don't want to hear me complain all night," he said, bringing his trembling hand back to his face and inhaling deeply on cigarette.

"No, man, we all gotta break down and talk sometimes. I been where you are. Well, not exactly, but I share your feelings at one time or another. Keep going."

"Thanks. I-I just feel so stuck. Like I'm on a branch sticking out of the middle of a, a big rock wall."

"What do you see when you look down?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you can't stay where you are for long. You can let yourself fall to the worst option, down, or you can try to reach the better one, up."

"When I look down, I guess I see...jagged rocks. I'll either be killed, or maimed horribly. And looking up is only the lesser of two evils. I see a black sky with no sun, and nobody. It's like I'll wallow in misery all alone, with no one who wants to help me or even look my way."

"When you say, you'll be killed, you mean that metaphorically, right?"

Ryan tilted his head downwards, afraid of the words he would waste breath on. He slipped the cigarette between his lips one last time, and replied, "I wish I did. I really do. Thanks for listening, Art. Thanks for the ride, too."

"No problem, man. If you ever need anything, just tell me. Listen, I don't want to pry about your situation, but I will offer my help. It sounds like you're in a heap of trouble. I will help you if you need me. You know the number and the address." Ryan nodded and stepped out of the dark green SUV, stamping out his cigarette as Art sped off into the night. Ryan shivered as he started off down the road. He had decided to have Art drop him off in Chino. Ryan did not have any particular location in mind; he just needed a walk. As a kid Ryan had often escaped his home late at night to clear his mind from any fights that day or harsh words exchanged between, well, members of his family. Most times the words did not bother him; he was used to the sound of fights and arguments, but sometimes the words really got to him. Even as a seventeen year old living the good life with the Cohens, he had his problems. Problems that became present via his past. He inhaled deeply on the cold night air, before starting his walk.

**What do y'all think? Read and Review, if you feel like it. If not, I'll just continue. I realize the chapter is a bit short; it's just, I'm not a fan of big chapters, and I like to get to the point with few details, unless it is a sexy fight scene, of course, which I am sure to get to...several times! Anyway, personally, I just don't have the time to read lengthy chapters, and I feel lazy when I spend like twenty minutes on just one chapter. But the upside is that I will continue within a few days. Beginnings are always easy for me, but not so much endings, so y'all have got serious stuff to look forward to, alright? I should do the next chapter by like Friday, maybe slightly later, so hold tight. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, guys. I hope this didn't take too long according to y'all's calendars. Anyway, here is chapter 2, I also want to give a special thanks to analey for her review, I really appreciate reviews, but no pressure or anything, maybe people just didn't feel like it. Here goes I guess.**

**Disclaimer: still I own nothing **

His head was bowed, his eyes were listless upon the cold ground. His thoughts seemed infinite. He needed more smokes. Maybe a little vodka. Ryan lifted his head slightly to the faint tickle of the cell phone in his right pocket. Why had he taken that thing with him? He grabbed it after a few seconds' hesitation.

"Hello?" His barely plausible voice whispered into the mouthpiece.

"Ryan," came Sandy's breathless rasp. "Oh, thank God you're alright. We're all so worried. Where are you? You were supposed to be home from Marissa's hours ago. I figured you were fine, and Seth kept saying you and Marissa were probably...well, I won't repeat that, but I gave into Kirsten and called. Better safe than sorry, right? When you didn't pick up for the sixth time, I started to worry. I just figured you had your phone turned off in case you and Marissa really were...uh, what Seth said. Anyway, are you on your way home?...Ryan?"

How could Ryan put it? He couldn't exactly say, 'no, Sandy, I'm not coming home. I'll probably be dead on the side of the road here in Chino by next week because I'm a dumbass with an idiot for a brother.' Ryan wanted to keep his new family in the dark about what was going on. If they knew, they would insist on calling police, or searching for him, or taking the criminals after their adopted son to court. Not to mention the worry they would suffer. Ryan could not do that to them. Not after all that they had done for him.

"Sandy, I'm not coming home."

"What? Ryan, are you alright, what's going on?" The panic in Sandy's voice was undeniable.

"I mean, I'm staying the night at Marissa's, if that's okay with you guys."

"Oh, you had me worried for a second. Of course you can stay the night with Marissa. I guess I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yeah, I'll give you guys a call, because I think me and Marissa have a full day planned out."

"Okay, cool. We love you, kid."

"I love you guys too. Bye." Ryan hung up the phone, a lump in his throat. How could he lie to them? It was for their own protection. How would he stop Marissa from calling the Cohens now? He would have to call and lie to her as well. Oh, what irony. The only people that ever really loved Ryan, and yet he was lying to them. Ryan shook the thought away and dialed Marissa's number.

"Hello?" She answered, her voice sweet and enthusiastic, as usual.

"H-hey." He felt almost overpowered by the feelings her angelic voice brought on. Here voice made him feel at home. Like everything really would be alright after all.

"Hey, Ry, what's up?"

"Hey, listen, you know how I had you drop me off at the corner of our street instead of at the Cohens' house?"

"Yeah, you said you just needed the fresh air because it would be good for you, I think."

"Yeah, well, it was good, but the real reason I had you drop me off there is because I didn't feel well. I thought it was just car sickness, but I think It's like the flu or something. Anyway, don't worry about me. I'm going to go to the hospital, but I'll be fine."

"Oh, my gosh. Ryan, I'll visit you right after school-"

"No, no don't. Marissa, you've got a lot to deal with, being the head of all the social stuff. Listen, it's hardly worse than a cold, besides I don't want you to catch it. I'm even encouraging the Cohens to stay away. I'll be fine. But please, please don't visit. I really don't like you seeing me in a backless hospital gown."

"It's nothing I haven't seen before," she said playfully, and Ryan could tell she was smiling.

"I know, but I always feel embarrassed. So just please don't visit me, okay?"

"I guess, if that's what you really want. And you promise you'll still call me, right?"

"Of course. I gotta run, the Cohens are about to take me. I love you."

"I love you, too. Bye."

"Bye." Ryan waited for Marissa to hang up before doing the same. How long could he keep this up? He would figure it out later. For now, all he wanted to do was walk.

**Once again, read and review if you feel like it, I really do appreciate it. If there are any spelling errors, sorry. I tried. Oh, and I know the whole flu thing seemed a little out there; I'm currently running low on creativity, but I hope to load my next chapter up with it. Keep in mind I'm not really good with details, I'm not very patient, and I do like to rush things. Anyway, I should have the next chap in a few more days, but probably not over the weekend, just because I have no privacy for those two days. Bye.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey guys! Wow, I feel so special! Thanks for the reviews, you guys rock! Special thanks to slimkay and vaughnrocks for their reviews, and that makes 3! Oh, I am purposely not giving hints. It makes it more suspenseful, and more people will be interested. I'll give you one hint in this chapter, and in the next chapter, you guys will find out what is up with Ryan. It's a good thing I'm fast at posting chapters, right? Here goes.**

**Disclaimer: Besides Paul, nothing is mine (though I wish I had the soundtrack, box set, more posters, day planner, and Ben McKenzie!)**

"Is he okay?" Kirsten asked her husband from behind him, a certain frantic tone in her voice, her eyes wide with fear and hope.

"Yeah, honey. He's just staying the night at Marissa's. He'll call us tomorrow." Kirsten released the breath she had been holding and nodded in relief.

"I told you they were probably..." Seth winked twice at his parents, and continued, "in bed, having an early, private slumber party."

"Seth, please," Kirsten said with a roll of her eyes. "I don't need to hear this, Ryan is as much my son as you, and do I care to know whether or not you're a virgin?"

"For the record, I'm not," Seth commented, grinning pridefully.

"Ugh!" The woman disgustedly walked out of the room. Sandy shot his son a look, almost as effective as one of Ryan's. Seth shrugged. "What? I'm proud." Sandy chuckled, shook his head, and followed Kirsten's footsteps.

Ryan rapped hesitantly on the door. The teenager was sweating bullets and thought of walking away from the white one-story house for the twentieth time that night. Ryan began to turn, but the door opened, revealing a thin man, slightly taller than Ryan, with short dark hair and bloodshot eyes. The man looked annoyed and exhausted, although, he must have been already awake because he held a partially smoked cigarette in his left hand. The man raised it to his lips, inhaling, lowering his hand to his side, then exhaling, all the while staring into Ryan's eyes with an I-don't-give-a-shit-about-nothing expression.

"Ryan," he grunted plainly.

"Paul," Ryan's face at first showed no expression, but that did not stop Paul from hugging him. Ryan hugged his old friend back, thinking of how wonderful it felt to hug another human being. Paul pulled away after a few seconds, inhaled on his cigarette, and turned to walk into his home, without another word. Ryan followed and shut the door behind him. Paul sat on his couch and formed two lines of cocaine on the glass coffee table in front of him. Ryan sat with him, uninvited. Paul leaned over to sniff the first line but Ryan's hand on his arm stopped him. He looked up at the teenager, only a few years younger than himself.

"I need you straight."

"Jeez, you really are in trouble. I mean when you came in here, I expected to do a few lines and talk about girl trouble or jail or some shit. What's up?"

"I'm in deep, man. You're the only guy who can pull me out of this. Have you done any lines or drank at all tonight?" Ryan knew his friend was excellent at holding his...everything. Emotions, alcohol and liquor, drugs, silence, anything.

"I've had a few shots of whiskey. About ten minutes ago. I'm fine, honest. Seeing you really sobered me up."

"Good."

"Look, man, why are you here? I ain't good with a whole lot. I know how to read, do drugs, get chics, fight, and fix stuff. That's about it."

"You know the business, Paul."

"The business? Man, what the hell are you talking about?" Ryan looked away a moment, sighed, and grabbed the already rolled one-dollar bill on the coffee table. Ryan's heart beat began to pick up as Ryan prepared for the cataclysm that was about to hit his body in an ironically great feeling. He hesitated before snorting one of the lines of cocaine off the coffee table. _Damn, that feels good. _Paul stared at Ryan questioningly at first, before grinning.

"Damn, boy, you in some shit. But hell, knowing you, it's your dumbass brother. That asshole don't know how to pour water out a boot with instructions on the heel."

Ryan wasn't paying attention to Paul's crude remarks; he was too busy living it up Chino-style. Ryan smiled as Paul created another line for him.

**So did y'all catch the hint? I'm sure you did. But that's only part of my twisted plot that is sure to draw hatred and fear upon the brothers Atwood. Anyway, y'all can Read and Review if y'all feel like it. If not, it's no big, but at least tell me if you're reading this, so I'll know how much to spice it up. I try not to have too much zest in it, but sometimes I just can't resist. Anyway, I'll update soon. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey peeps! Wow, I'm surprised that more reviews came in. I was beginning to worry that no one liked it! Thanks again vaughnrocks for your reviews! I didn't expect anyone to review twice, but now I'm quite satisfied. I used to be a horrible writer. All ideas and no details. anyway, also Laine7727, I thought Theresa's boyfriend's name was Arturo. Or maybe that's a different Chino friend of Ryan's. Either way, correct me if I'm wrong. I really really miss the OC. I can't wait til the new season starts. So thanks for your reviews, oh and I know this seems weird, but is slimkay a guy or a girl? I'm just wondering. Sorry, but it just seems like all of you are girls. I'm weird, I know. Hey, I have a fun game of weirdness. If y'all try to review again, guess what gender I am. I would say the answer will shock you, just to get you to think, but there's only a fifty/fifty chance anyway, so yeah. And the answer probably won't shock you. Wow, I talk a lot. Or, uh, write a lot. Thanks for reviews, read and weep.**

**Disclaimer: I only own **

The phone rang and rang, but no one answered. Seth finally gave up and set the phone back on the receiver.

"Still no answer?" Sandy asked his son, a worried expression on his face. Seth's expression had begun to change from the mindless one he had the day before to a sort of stressful, anxious one.

"Maybe he's still hanging out with Marissa."

"Seth, it's six o'clock. Why are they spending so much time together anyway?"

Seth shrugged. "I hope he gets home soon because I am dying to have some serious video game time with him. We haven't played all weekend. And tomorrow's Monday, which mean we both bring like a million textbooks home for crap we don't even need to know."

"Well, he can't spend tonight at Marissa's, so we'll just wait. He'll call or get home soon."

Paul shook Ryan. The teenage boy opened his bloodshot eyes and glanced around the unfamiliar room.

"Ry, your phone was just going off. I could hear it vibrating. I'm surprised you didn't feel it. I guess it's too late now." Paul's voice awoke Ryan's short-term memory, and Ryan knew where he was and what was going on.

"It was probably the Cohens or Marissa. I need to call them. What time is it?"

"Like six."

"Six? How long have I been out?"

"Beats me. We fell asleep pretty late last night. all that coke and booz, I'm surprised we fell asleep at all. So are we gonna call Trey?"

"Hell, yeah we are. Trey's the whole reason I'm here."

"Explain this whole thing to me again. I was a bit high when we last spoke."

"Okay, let me remember..."

_Ryan and Seth sat in front of the television, a controller in both their hands. The phone had begun to ring, so Seth paused the game to answer it. Ryan was surprised when Seth brought the phone to him. _

_"Hello?"_

_"Ryan."_

_"Trey?"_

_"Yeah. Listen, man, I need your help."_

_"Trey, I don't have any money, okay?"_

_"I figured that. But it's too late anyway."_

_"What?" Ryan stood and walked out of the living room, knowing this was not good news._

_"I'm in a bind."_

_"I know, why else would you have called."_

_"Listen, I sort of, uh, got, um, I..."_

_"Trey, just tell me."_

_"I'm addicted to heroin."_

_"Trey, how the hell-? You know what, I don't want to know. Just check into a rehab clinic, okay? And please get rid of what you have left," Ryan whispered into the mouth piece, hoping no one would hear any of this._

_"Ry, that's not the point."_

_"Trey, look, ever since you got out of jail, you've been in and out of trouble. I can't solve all your problems for you..."_

_"Ryan, they're gonna kill me," Trey blurted, interrupting his brother. "I stole some heroin from these drugdealers, and they're in the process of hunting me down at this very moment."_

_"Trey, what the hell is wrong with you?" Ryan demanded. "You can't just steal, didn't you learn that when you went to jail for trying to steal a car? Well this is a hell of a lot bigger and worse than that!"_

_"Don't you think I know that? Why the hell else would I be talking to you? Just to say hi? Damn it, ryan, would you just help me?"_

_"How can I? If they're hunting you down, you're dead. It's not like you can give them the stuff back because you probably used it, and even if you hadn't, they would still kill you for screwing with them!"_

_"You know that guy. Paul. The drugdealer. Isn't there something he can do?"_

_"Trey, you don't just go up to people you haven't seen in three years and ask them for help, and besides, he does more drugs than he sells. What the hell would Paul know about this? He's never been stolen from, and he's going to tell you the same thing I'm telling you! You're going to die, and there's nothing anyone can do to help you now, so I'd say run. Run as fast and as far as you can and never look back."_

_"Ryan, they're dealers! They got people hunting me! I'm too terrified to leave my apartment! Please, please go to Paul. I'm asking you as your brother, man, the only Atwood that ever cared about you. The only guy that would teach you how to fight. The guy that protected you from the bullies at school until you learned how to fight back. Please, man." Ryan sighed, and thought a moment. How could he refuse his brother? His own flesh and blood? _

_"Fine, I'll ask Paul. But that's it."_

_"Thank, you. I love you, Ry."_

"And so I said I'd ask you. I don't know why I was stupid enough to listen to him. I did it before and ended up in jail."

"That's not the whole explaination though, right?"

"No, there's more."

**Wow, it took me a long time to type this. But not as long as it takes most people. What do y'all think? I hope this isn't like too cliched or anything. Oh, and I gaurantee sexy fight scenes in the future of this ff. Maybe after the next chapter. I haven't really decided yet. I'm still working on keeping y'all left in suspense. Keep reading and reviewing. Bye.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Okay, I know it has taken me forever to update. sorry. my fanfic was one of the last things on my mind these days. I'm in colorguard at Langham Creek High School, and we've been doing practice like three or four days a week after school, and then I come home to homework and crap, plus we had our first three performances, and have another one tomorrow. Oh, and our first competition (Bands Of America) is in two weeks. We perform at the halftimes at football games (high school football-varsity team), and so we are pretty bad right now, or at least that's what the band director and colorguard director say, and who am I to question them? Anyway, sorry I haven't updated, but how come y'all haven't been reviewing very much? Y'all just don't feel like it? whatever. read.**

**disclaimer: Iay wnoay othingnay (that's piglatin)**

Seth tilted his head to one side as he listened to the ringing. Finally, Ryan answered.

"Hello?"

"Ryan, my bro, are you still at Marissa's house?"

"Uh, yeah."

"Jeez, you sound tired. What are you two frisky teens up to?"

"Seth, please. We're just...watching a movie."

"Ah. Is it a chick flick?"

"Yeah, I'm about to fall asleep."

"Dude, never say that in front of a chick. She'll get offended."

"No, I'm talking to you in a different room, it's okay."

"Man, you need to hurry up and get home. I am desperate to whomp you in a game of Ninja Wars 3. When are you coming home?"

"Seth, I don't know. I think I might stay the night again. Me and Marissa keep getting closer. I might even stay the entire week at her house."

"Ryan, what's really going on? You would never want to be away from me, your best friend, for this long. You know you miss my sense of sarcasm and my Jew fro."

"Yeah, Seth. Look I gotta go. Marissa...wants me to make some more popcorn."

Seth sighed. "Fine. I'll give Summer a call or something. You two do your thing." Ryan could hear the impatientness and slight sadness in his brother's voice.

"Seth, you know I love you like a brother, right?"

"How can you not?" Ryan could almost see the grin spreading across Seth's face.

"Well, I do. You really are my best friend."

"Okay, Ryan, don't get homo on me. I'm Jewish, we don't go for that stuff."

"Sorry. Anyway, I'll talk to you later. Bye."

Ryan put the phone into his pocket and turned his attention back to Paul, who only stared.

"Sorry, man, he's my brother, and I'm trying to be with him in spirit as much as possible before I die."

"I get it. Don't be so down, Ry."

"How can I not be down? Everyone in my life has abandoned me except the Cohens, and now I'm the one abandoning them. It's just too soon."

"Man, I remember when you would stand around waiting to die, and now you suddenly want to avoid it at all cost. That is crazy shit."

"I know, but..." The teenager was interrupted by an angry knock on the door. Paul and Ryan exchanged worried glances. After a thirty-second hesitation, Paul opened the door. There, Trey lay on the ground, covered in bruises and dirt, bleeding, unconscious. The cigarette fell from Paul's mouth as he stood in utter surprise and silence. Ryan could see what was going on, even though he did not know for a fact that it was his genetic brother. The blood and sweeling and dark green-and-purple bruises disguised Trey's flesh. Ryan rushed over to where Paul stood. Paul moved back inside the house, leaving Ryan kneeling beside his brother, muttering, "Trey", and trying to wake him.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Coop."

"Oh, hey, Sum."

"Cohen just called me and asked if I wanted to play some funky Nintendo game. And I was like 'yeah right, that's you and Chino's thing', but he told me about what was going on, so I guess he's just lonely."

"Yeah, I feel bad for Seth. It's got to really worry him to know that Ryan's somewhere other than home."

"Seriously. So speaking of Chino, how's he holding up, you know, being away from Cohen and all."

"I don't know."

"Oh, he doesn't feel like talking? That's cool, he's always quiet anyway. Do you think they got in a fight?"

"Who?"

"Cohen and Chino."

"Why would you think that?"

"Well, he's intentionally being away from Seth. Like on purpose."

"Sum, how does someone end up in the hospital on purpose?"

"What? Chino's in the hospital? Seth didn't tell me that part! What happened?"

"Ryan's had the flu since like two days ago. How could Seth not have told you that?"

"All he told me was that Ryan told him that he was at your house and you two were probably getting...intimate."

"What?"

"Well, come on, sleepovers? With your boyfriend? I already know you two have had sex, it isn't a surprise to..."

"No, Sum! Ryan hasn't been to my house since last week! He told me he had the flu!"

"Well he told Seth he was with you."

"Something's wrong. He's in trouble, I just know it. Why else would he lie to us?"

"Coop, you're overreacting. Ryan probably just needed a vacation or maybe he went to visit Trey or..."

"That's it! Trey! Ryan's probably in Chino and he didn't want to tell anyone because then we would want to come, and if he did get in any trouble, he would want us safe, and there's gangs and stuff, and we could be killed, and..."

"Coop! Slow down! You're freaking me out. Look, let's just wait for Ryan to come home. He'll be fine, and so will we. Just calm down."

"Okay, okay, sorry. You're right. Ryan's probably fine. Just seeing Trey. Okay."

"Okay. Now how about meeting me at Cohen's house for a round of Ninja fighting?"

**Wow, I really had to rush it on this one. Sorry, but I didn't want to keep you guys suspended without any type of action for too long. I've been so caught up in the world, sorry I haven't updated in so long. I really miss getting new reviews from you guys. Special thanks to my latest review, Lanfearl. Thanks! It was your review that brought me back to my love of fanfics. I think you're my only new review for the last chapter, but if not, I'm sorry I missed the others. Know what sucks? I worked so damn hard for straight As only to get 3 Bs! I was so mad when I found out today! GRRR! Lucky for me I can escape to this fictional world. Anyway, R&R. Luv ya, oh, and if I don't update soon, I'm really sorry. I've got a ton on my plate for these next two weeks. In colorguard we have to prepare like crazy for BOA because we aren't very good at what we know yet, and we've got like half a show to learn and perfect in such a short amount of time. Wow. Anyway, bye.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, peeps. Hope it hasn't been too long for y'all. Anyway, thanks slimkay and AgnesSophia and Neca and Lanfearl for y'all's reviews, and I'm sorry to say that Ryan will no longer suffer...HOLY CRAP, I HOPE NO ONE FELL FOR THAT! Ryan has got quite a bit more suffering to do, or else why would this be angst? You guys have to worry for him, right? And Marissa and the Cohens, too. Anyway, sorry to disappoint everyone who hoped this would turn out for the best...I haven't decided an ending yet, but I know things will never be the same for Ry, Marissa, the Cohens, or Trey. By the way, this is pre-the-shot-heard-round-the-world. When I say (er-write) that, I don't mean this is before the British came and war broke loose in America, I mean Marissa has not shot Trey (ever) and he didn't try to rape her; he just went back to Chino after a couple weeks at the Cohens'. I do not wish to explain this in my fanfiction, though I might mention it, but it would be far too complex and take up far too much time for me to give every little detail. Deal with it. Thanks for reviewing, I know I write a lot. I have lots to say. Wow, this intro alone could probably be a chapter. Maybe not. READ!**

**Disclaimer:I didn't own anything (except Paul) to begin with, why the hell would I own any now? (I don't).**

Ryan patted Trey's face with a damp blue wash cloth, removing most of the blood as he mentally cursed at himself for getting involved. Paul reached into his medicine cabinet for a small box of bandages, pulling two out. Trey's cheeks were swollen and purple, his right eye looked even worse, and adjacent to his left eye ran a long line of blood seeping from the main gash Ryan could only assume had come from the same knife that had pierced his brother's torso. Trey's breaths were almost to shallow to hear, but Ryan knew he was alive. Trey was a fighter; his raw bloody knuckles showed it.

"Ry, looks like you're in some deep shit, man."

"You don't have to tell me twice."

"You never did finish telling me how you were involved in this."

"What can I say? I told Trey I would talk to you, but when I got here, Trey called me and told me I had to get the money or they would kill him. So now here I am not a penny to my name, and the drug dealers want me to bring them a shitload of money in two days."

"Man, if they did this to Trey because they were pissed they couldn't get the money sooner, I don't want to know what they'll do to you when they find out there is no money." Ryan shot Paul one of his trademark expressions, but he could not disguise the fear in his eyes.

"Mrs. Cohen?" Marissa asked softly.

"Yes."

"This is Marissa Cooper."

"Oh, hey, sweetie. Is Ryan going to stay the night with you again tonight?"

"Not exactly," Marissa was beginning to fiddle nervously with her hair. The very first question Kirsten had asked was about Ryan. He was what was on her mind. How could Marissa tell her that he was missing?

"Oh, good, I missed hearing Seth and him argue about you and Summer." Kirsten smiled, thinking of how she used to hate when her sons did that. "But I think it's great that you two are spending time together. I wish Sandy would spend as much time with me as he does at work."

"Well, I..I didn't mean Ryan was coming home."

"No?"

"No. I mean, I guess not. I don't really know his situation."

"Situation? Marissa, what's going on?"

"Ryan lied to us," she blurted without thinking. Marissa slapped a hand to her head and took a deep breath, knowing that Kirsten must be confused by her words. "Three days ago, Ryan told me he had the flu and was in the hospital. But I found out that he told you guys he was staying with me. It isn't true. I don't know where he is."

There was a loud clatter all of a sudden. "Hello?" The line had not gone dead, but no one was answering. "Mrs. Cohen?"

Kirsten felt numb as she replayed Marissa's terrifying words in her head. "I don't know where he is." The phone fell from Kirsten's right hand. Without another moment's hesitation, Kirsten grabbed her keys off the kitchen counter and briskly walked outside to the SUV in the driveway. She did not hear the door slam; she did not hear the engine start. She only heard Marissa's words as she drove out of the driveway and in the direction of Chino.

"Mom, what...?" Seth, having come down stairs to demand who was slamming doors and dropping things, noticed the phone on the floor. He picked it up and put it to his ear.

"KIRSTEN!" Marissa screamed. Seth jumped at the deafening sound.

"Actually it's Seth! I think I'm deaf now."

"Seth! It's Marissa!"

"I established that..."

"Is your mom okay?"

"Why wouldn't she be?"

"When I told her Ryan was missing, she stopped talking and there was this noise..."

"Wait, wait, what did you say about Ryan?" Had he heard her wrong?

"I'm sorry, Seth, but he lied to you."

"Lied? To me? Why would he lie to me? I'm his brother."

"I'm his girlfriend, and he lied to me. It was probably to protect us..."

"Against what?"

"I don't know, but he told you he was with me, and he told me he was in the hospital with the flu. I'm pretty sure he's in Chino."

"Why would he go there? If he wanted to visit Trey, he could have told us."

"I don't think that's the reason he's there. Trey probably did something, and Ryan has to help him."

"Okay, so what's so bad about that?" Seth was still in a state of denial. He tried to mentally tell himself that everything was fine.

"Trey gets into deep stuff. It was his idea to steal that car, remember? And he did steal a ten thousand dollar egg from that Tom Cruise movie."

His hopeful state of denial was broken. "So you're saying that...Ryan's in trouble? And he didn't want us to get mixed up in it?"

"Basically." Marissa ran a hand through her hair, still trying to grasp her own theory.

"Oh, yeah. That's Ryan Atwood. And I think I know what happened to my mom. The car's gone." Seth shook his head and stepped away from the sliding glass doors that lead outside to the driveway. He listened to silence for a few seconds.

"Seth, I'm coming over there," Marissa proclaimed.

"Why?"

"We're going to Chino."

**I realize that all my chapters have at least one phone conversation in them. I'm not good at detailing talk, but at least I get some facts and thoughts across this way. Besides, the phone calls are kinda cool I think. Anyway, R&R. Or you can e-mail me personally, it's all good. I hope to update again soon, but for now this is good. Bye.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I'm back with more! Yay! I love you guys! Thank you orange-tide and slimkay for reviewing, your words make me happy. Wow, chapter 7 already. Time goes by fast. Oh, hey did y'all hear about Hurricane Rita? I'm sure you did. Anyways, it's headed right for me, here in Houston, Texas. Cat. 5 right now. Looking bad. This might be my last chap to y'all, but let's hope not. Keep me and my dad and friends and school in your prayers, if you will. You'll know if I'm alright when Monday rolls around and I send an update. If I don't update by next weekend at the latest...yeah, you get the point. Love you guys. **

**Disclaimer: zip, nada, nothing, zilch, zero, none, el none-o, ah you get the pic. **

Trey's left eye opened; his right eye was swollen shut. He saw a blurry ceiling. Every muscle in his body ached. He would have called out for someone, but he felt so weak and exhausted. He could hear someone saying something about cocaine. Offering the drug. Trey longed for the offer, but he figured he was in enough trouble already. Someone else was refusing it. Ryan. Trey did not like the idea of his younger brother seeing him like that; bruised, bloody, unconscious, weak. Had Ryan found him like that? Or had someone taken him to the hospital? Was he even in a hospital? Trey slowly made a fist out of his right hand. His fingers came across a soft fabric. No sheets or blankets. Whose home was he in?

"No, man. I don't want to get addicted to that shit again," Ryan said. Paul nodded and turned toward Trey. He tapped Ryan's shoulder at what he saw. Ryan looked at Trey and saw his fist moving very slowly across the couch.

"Trey!"

Trey stopped moving. Ryan knew he was awake. He could hear his brother's footsteps on the carpet as the teenager neared him.

Ryan knelt beside Trey, staring at his face. "Trey, hey, it's me."

"Ryan, where am I?" It was no surprise to Ryan that Trey was not at all panicked; Trey was strong.

"You're at Paul's house."

"Paul? Ryan, you came through."

"Of course I did. When have I not?"

"You shouldn't be here." Ryan studied his brother carefully, a confused expression on his face.

"Trey, you told me to come. Besides, you're my brother."

"I changed my mind. Get away while you still can." Trey felt his muscles tense up.

"Trey, look, you need to sleep, okay? You aren't in any shape to be talking and thinking so much. You don't need this stress. I'm here, and I won't leave."

"You have to. They're gonna kill me anyway."

"What? But you said as long as I bring the money..."

"You don't have it."

"What makes you think that?"

"You love the Cohens too much to ask them for money. Besides, you're an Atwood. You settle everything with fighting." Trey grinned slightly, but winced at the pain he felt. "Since you don't have the money, they'll kill us both. But you can still get away."

"I won't leave you. Trey, even if I did leave, I couldn't go back to New Port. They'll find me there and hurt the Cohens. Maybe kill them. It's over for us both, man. I knew that as soon as I hung up the phone after you called. It's out of our hands." Trey seemed satisfied with his brother's answer and relaxed.

Kirsten drove angrily. There seemed to be an endless amount of honking around her, but she heard none of it. She could only think of Ryan. How could he lie to her? She ran another red light as the honking continued. Her thoughts were the only things going by faster than her car. Her cell phone bagen to ring, but she did not answer it. Her mind was focused on finding her son. She could check Ryan's old house first, and then hospitals in Chino. When that thought entered her head, she pressed the gas pedal the rest of the way to the floorboard.

"Any luck?" Marissa asked.

"No, she won't pick up. She must be really freaked out. What did you say to her?"

"I told her that Ryan had lied to us, and I didn't know where he was. Then you picked up."

"And now you realize my mother's evil, undying love for us."

"No time for sarcasm, we have to get to Chino before your mom. She's never been there; she won't know what to do."

"You know, you and I have only been there like twice, and that qualifies us to know what to do?"

"Look, we know how rough it is. We've seen it, and I'll bet anything Ryan has told us a lot more than he ever tells your mom."

"I knew parents didn't have all the answers! Ha!"

"Look, do you have any idea where Kirsten will go?"

"Probably the hospitals. That's just her logic. She always thinks that someone's hurt."

"Great, call 411 for numbers to every hospital in Chino."

"You actually think we can get there before my mom?"

"It's worth a try. Why?"

"She drives like a maniac when she's stressed. She's probably flooring it as we speak."

"Then I will, too." Seth's back slammed against the seat as the car jetted forward.

**So what do y'all think? R&R, and once again keep us in your prayers. My colorguard and school got cancelled at least until Monday, so there is a positive. I have to go and do some chores my dad asked me to do so our house is ready to go in case the power goes out or something. Love y'all. Hope to hear (read) from you soon. Pray! Love ya, angstyaddict, a.k.a Hev Nebel. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, guys! Special thanks to Leentje and koolkerry25 for reviewing (and obviously reading), and...well, I'm alive. The hurricane missed us completely. We got a few gusts of wind, a few powerless hours, and our trees are missing some branches and leaves. I take it some of you prayed, and thank you so much. God bless you. School has been cancelled for two more days now, and our band and colorguard directors are going to be pissed. We really need the practice, since BOA (Bands of America) is Saturday. Anyway, time for some good old fashioned angst. R&R.**

**Disclaimer: I'll just say it plainly-I own nothing, oh except "the boys" (gang), and also Ryan's address (I don't know what it actually is).**

"Ry, I hate to see you like this," Paul said after taking another drag off his cigarette. Ryan had been quiet the entire day. Paul and Trey knew he was thinking about what would happen in two days.

"I'm just deciding."

"Deciding what? I thought you decided to stay here and take it."

"I did. I'm deciding how I'm going to take it. I can't buy a gun or any other type of useful weapon because of my criminal record. I know Trey can't either. Paul, do you own a gun?"

"Ryan, I'm a drugdealer. There's no way I wouldn't own a gun. You know how many jerks would love to get their hands on my shit?"

"More than ten I'm sure. Would you be willing to lend it to me?"

"Ryan, you'll need a hell of a lot better than a gun. These guys are probably packin'. Rifles and shit. Besides, what would you do? Kill them? Talk about a criminal record..."

"I guess it wouldn't help for protection either. They'll just come back. Couldn't I get cops on them or something?"

"Are you kidding? Cops take their time; the drugdealers would rip you to shreds when they found out you got cops. Plus, why would cops believe you? It's like you said, criminal record, man."

"Then I'm completely out of options. I'm going to have to fight with my hands. And I'm going to be killed. The Cohens will find my mutilated body in a few days."

"No, man, don't think like that. I know this is a really shitty situation, but try not to think about it. You know what you gotta do. You know there ain't no way out of it. I wish I could protect you...oh shit. Damn, it's been forever since I been sober. I got another option for you."

"You must be sober, I can't believe you have an idea."

"Well, all your shit talk got me thinking. What if I call up the boys?"

"The boys?"

"Yeah, man. Juan, Ben, Art, Smack, Theo. All the group home boys."

"Hey, yeah, except one problem. We went our separate ways like six years ago when Theo and Juan left the home."

"So we'll get a reunion going. It's worth a try. We got two days, and it's either that or you die alone. Your choice."

"Seth, I really need you to hurry with that information," Marissa said. They had been on the road for a while, and Seth had been calling hospitals like crazy.

"Marissa, this is the last hospital. Chill."

"Are you sure you got the addresses all right?"

"I got better than that. I just asked if there was a patient named Ryan Atwood. So far no one has seen him in a couple years. But a few of the receptionists were real familiar with his name. Can't imagine why. Oh, yes, hello," Seth said, suddenly speaking into the phone rather than to Marissa. "Would you be able to tell me if there is a patient-a Mr. Ryan Atwood-at your hospital?...Alright, thank you." He turned back to Marissa after hanging up. "Positive-Ryan's not hurt, or maybe he just hasn't gone to the hospital. Negative-we don't know where he is."

"Are you sure you checked every Chino hospital?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to check out Fresno and New Port?"

"Just to be on the safe side." Seth sighed and dialed information again.

Kirsten swerved into the parking lot like a crazy woman and parked sloppily. She got out of her car and jogged to the hospital entrance.

"Is Ryan Atwood here?" she practically yelled at the receptionist.

"I-I'll check," the frightened woman said. She turned to her computer and typed a few things. "No, ma'am."

"Shit," Kirsten blurted, running back out the door. The next place to check was Ryan's old house, but Kirsten did not recall where that was. Had she ever been there? Kirsten had to call Sandy. He had been the first of the Cohens to meet Ryan. He would know.

"Hello?"

"Honey, I need the address to Ryan's old house in Chino."

"Woah, woah, you sound panicky. What's going on? Why do you need the..."

"Damn it, Sandy tell me!"

"Alright, alright. Just calm down..."

"SANDY!" she screamed into the phone.

"Let me find it, Kirsten, please!" Kirsten rubbed her forehead, miserably, and nearly ran a red light. She stomped on the brakes just in time, a loud screeching sound coming from the tires.

"Kirsten, what was that? Are you driving?"

"Sandy, I don't have time for your questions. Do you have the address or not?"

"Yes, I just found it."

"Then give it to me before I hurl this damn phone out my window."

"543 Blue Creek Road." The line went dead as soon as the words escaped his lips.

Kirsten hit the gas hard and searched for a gas station where she could stop and ask directions.

"Ryan, I have excellent news."

"Continue."

"All the boys are coming."

"How did you manage to find them?"

"I got friends, man. Not really friends, but people. I went back to the group home after you left, and I made it with a few workers. Let's just say they could lose their job over me. We'll leave it at that."

"Paul, you always were a ladies' man."

"I know it. Hey, you know that fine Miss Nancy? I made it twice with her."

"No way! How did you do it?"

"I pinched her butt in the hall one day. Then, at dinner, she slipped me a note telling me to meet her in that huge supply room with all the bulk food. Then, the second time, I caught her on a smoke break, and we went into the basement."

"Thanks, Paul. You have no idea how much I appreciate all you've done for me and Trey."

"No, big, man. You were one of my first friends in that group home. And those lines you taught me worked wonders on that fine Mrs. Jeana. Marriage didn't stop her from loving those pickup lines. I owe you a good half hour for that."

"You're sick, man."

"On a different note, the boys will be here in a few hours. Some of them moved, so it will take a while. There's a big positive about this place; your friends always got your back, no matter how long it's been since they seen you." Paul inhaled off his cigarette and walked away.

**Once again, R&R. I need to make sure I'm not rushing this fanfic. I'm bad about that. I sort of threw it together because I told y'all I'd have it updated by today, so sorry if it's confusing or fast. Oh, I forgot to say this in my intro to this chap, but I MADE RIFLE LINE IN COLORGUARD! It's like last year I didn't, but this year I did! I'm so proud! But so freaked out! What if I screw up? And now that I'm in rifle line this year, I'll have to be in it every year, unless I'm terrible. Next year I'm going to try for sabre line. Hellooooooo, bruises, blood, and broken bones! Woo hoo! Write you later. Bye.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey again! Thanks lanfearl and Leentje and Dogsbody and Chaigrl so much for your reviews. I'm glad to know y'all are enjoying this, and even though my last chap was a bit rushed and not very well thought out (sorry!), I'm glad you still liked it. Chaigrl, you're the first one to mention me and my family's safety, and I know that we are in your thoughts, so thank you. Hey, I know I haven't updated in an eternity. My apologies. I have been very stressed and busy like y'all wouldn't believe. I have like 5 projects due this week and a contest (band/colorguard) tomorrow. Anyway, here goes I guess. Oh, I think has hidden my story. Maybe an update will bring it back. I hope so. Gosh, how long have I taken? Oh, also, more on the rifle line, I'm doing really well. I'm covered in bruises that range from arm to knee to ankle. Wow. I sucked when I started. I'm better now. My bruises have almost ceased to hurt because I've endured so many. Also, I think I pulled like two muscles. And I got stabbed by the wood staples sticking up out of the butt of my rifle. AWESOME! **

**Disclaimer: umm..., i ain't gots nothin' (except my cats, some flags, and a rifle)**

Kirsten's SUV braked at the front of Ryan's old house. She had gotten directions from a gas station attendent, who would have seemed more than terrifying to a normal Kirsten, but this version of Kirsten feared nothing. She slammed the door after she stepped out of the vehicle. Kirsten stomped angrily to the front door and banged as hard as she could until the door swung open. Kirsten was facing a large slobbish man holding a beer.

"Who the hell are you?"

"That depends on you. Tell me where I can find my son, and I'll be a kind woman. Keep staring at me like I'm some piece of ass, and I'll be a bitch. What'll it be?"

AJ was taken aback by his choices. He turned around, drank off his beer bottle, thought a moment, and turned back to face Kirsten.

"Lady, if I knew who your son was, I might be able to give you information. But I don't. I don't know you, I don't know what the hell you're doing on my property, I don't know why I haven't slammed the door yet." He stepped back and grabbed the knob, but Kirsten jumped in front of the door. She grabbed AJ by the collar.

"My son is Ryan Atwood. I've heard quite a deal about you. You're his alcoholic stepfather. A fat ass slob who has no hope of a future and wastes his invaluable time beating up teenagers and guzzling beer by the case. If I had a gun, I'd do society a favor and shoot you on the spot. But I need information, and you better DAMN WELL GIVE IT TO ME!" She released him and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh, so you're Ryan's new bitch? What is he now, a pimp?"

This remark made Kirsten's flesh tingle and her face burn with an anger that she had never felt before.

"Look, Ryan's mom or hooker or whatever, Ryan's a piece of shit that will never make it in the world. I did him a favor when I beat him. I made him unsocial and hopefully suicidal. Maybe that will help the world..." Kirsten ripped the beer bottle out of AJ's hand, smashed it on the wall, and held a shard to the portly man's red throat. She had always seen that move in the movies, but she had never thought it would actually work in real life. She slit his throat from ear to ear. It was not a deep enough cut to kill him, but it did draw blood. That was all Kirsten wanted; to spill enough of AJ's blood to account for all the blood he had stolen from her precious son. A sick grin appeared on the woman's face as AJ fell in silent plea to his knees.

"Unless you want this shard to befall your manhood," Kirsten threatened, pointing the bottle piece at the man's crotch, "then I suggest you tell me where my son is. And you also apologize to me and Ryan."

"Y-yes, I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, trying to clamp his wound with his hand. "But I don't know where he is. Why would he even come to me? He hates me. He's probably with his brother, or Teresa, or... or Arturo or Art...or Paul or..."

"Stop. Who's Paul? And Art?"

"They-they're his friends fr-from the group home for boys. They're drug-addicted dealers now, I think. Look, I swear I don't know where Ryan is."

"Fine. Just tell me where the group home is, and I'll leave. And you'll keep your penis."

"It's just a few blocks from here. Really. It's on Fortitude Road. Take a-a left, then go until you hit the second stop sign, then another left, then two rights, I think. And it's right there."

"You have a good memory."

"Ryan's real mom always had to pick him up from that place."

Once again, Kirsten grew angry. His real mom?

"I'm Ryan's real mom. I don't consider Dawn to be much of a mother. She's abandoned her children several times for selfish stupid things. A REAL mother loves her children." With that last word, Kirsten turned and left, carrying the glass shard with her. She stuffed it in her glove compartment, although she wasn't sure why. All she was sure of were the directions to the group home.

"Ry, man hurry up in there. You ain't gotta look perfect. These are the boys in an alley. Not cute princesses at a ball."

The bathroom door opened to reveal Ryan, pale and dressed in his traditional wife beater and jeans.

"I'm just nervous, Paul. Whatever I do next is going to determine several lives. Most directly, mine."

"Don't fret, man. We'll get this all figured out. No big."

"Paul, we've got one more day. This is HUGE."

**I know it isn't much, but I wanted to get it out soon, and my dad really wants me to get ready for bed. Sorry. Bye.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks Neca, Leentje, darkchildlover (thanks for thinking of my family!), ChaiGrl, and everyone who reviewed! Sorry about the delay, I'm running out of ideas. Also, our computer got a nasty virus and we had to restore everything, I no longer have any documents. I worked so hard, too. Well, your reviews will cheer me up. So in UIL we got a division 1 rating (the best!), and at this other competition in Dallas we came in second place out of a bunch of different marching bands & colorguards, so WOOHOO!**

Paul found Ryan lying on the couch. Trey had taken the floor, having felt awful about dragging Ryan into this. Paul tapped Ryan's arm, but he knew the teen was awake.

"Hey," Ryan spoke softly. His voice was raspy, and it seemes distant much like his eyes.

"Did you sleep, partner?"

"Not a bit. You?"

"How could I?"

"Trey managed," Ryan said, nodding toward his older brother.

"Lucky asshole," Paul dubbed Trey. Ryan sat up and stretched.

"Listen, we're going to start around one am tonight. Try to get some rest. I know tonight we might die, but at least try to save energy. We could get lucky."

"Doubt it. I'll try."

Kirsten attempted to walk calmly up to the front desk of the group home.

"May I help you?" the woman asked, meekly.

"I sure hope so," Kirsten did not want to sound frigid and frighten the woman so she put on a fake smile. "My name is Kirsten Cohen."

"My name is Nancy Cart. Nice to meet you."

"And you. Listen, I was wondering if I could get some addresses from you."

"I don't think so."

"Please, it's an emergency."

"What kind?"

"My son is in danger."

"I don't recall that we've had a Cohen in the years I've worked here."

"He's Ryan Atwood. But I need an address for a friend of his named Art. I don't know his last name. I was hoping you would know, that is, if you worked here when Ryan was here."

"I did. I remember Ryan and Art. Are you familiar with Ryan's friend Paul? I saw him only two days ago, if my memory serves me correctly. He needed Art's address and a few others."

"Oh, well, can I get what he got?"

"Why? You in kahootz with Paul or something?"

"Uh, yes, yes I'm his girlfriend." Kirsten thought that perhaps if she could convince the woman of that, then she might get Art's address.

"Oh, really? I didn't realize Paul still dated older women."

"Older?" Kirsten asked, slightly offended.

"Yes. When he was here he...he had familiar relations with at least one caretaker that I know of." The woman blushed as she said this, and Kirsten could tell who the "one caretaker" was.

"Oh, Paul told me about you several times." This seemed to draw the woman's attention quickly.

"What did he say?"

"He, he said that you were a real handful in bed."

"I don't know about that. We never did it in a bed," she giggled. Then the woman stopped abruptly as if she just realized all the information she had given to Kirsten.

"Tell you what. If I give you all the addresses for Ryan's friends, you won't mention a word of our conversation to my boss."

Kirsten smiled. "Sounds great."

"Ryan, you almost ready?"

"For what?"

"We need to buy some weapons. This isn't a fistfight."

"Well, I figured that much out on my own. What sort of weapons?"

"Guns, knives, damn hand grenades. What ever we find. It's gotta be pretty quick, though. We're meeting the boys in a few hours so we can get a plan going before tonight."

"You're a drug dealer. Don't you have any weapons?"

"A few. But they ain't gonna last for all of us."

"What the hell have I gotten into?"

"Some bad shit."

**Okay. So look forward to the next chapter, because it will probably be the fight. Unless I get hooked on some more stuff. I don't know when I'll be able to update, but sit tight. I gots stuff to do. See ya til then. Seacrest out. Just kidding. I hate that stupid line.**


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks Leentje (so loyal) and Whatever224 and MHS02 and koolkerry25 and Papermonsters for your reviews. So much is going on. We've had two suicides, one from our high school, one from a sister school, a gang murder (by our students to a fellow student), and my friend's dog and colorguard teacher's dog died. If any of you are Christians, keep your faith stronger than ever. I say this because of the newest threats of attack to Israel. It will get nuclear. The rapture will happen. I'm slightly freaked out. For those of you who are not Christian, please please please sneak some glances at the Bible. If not for yourselves, then for me. And vice versa. I'm not a very religious person, but I know what I know, and I wish you all wisdom.**

Kirsten rapped on the door. A tall blonde woman with a cigarette between her lips answered. "Can I help you?"

"Hope so. Art Tentley live here?"

"Depends on who wants to know." The woman slouched against the door.

"I want to know."

"Well, shit, hon, I done figured that out on my own. What's your name?"

Kirsten smiled smugly. "Nancy. Nancy Cart."

"That name don't sound familiar."

Kirsten huffed and rolled her eyes. "Doesn't surprise me. Are you Art's new girlfriend?"

"Maybe."

"You don't give out much information, do you?"

"Only to the right people."

"Well, look, I'm Art's ex, from a long, long time ago. I just need to speak with him."

The woman looked at the ground, inhaled off her cigarette, scratched her head in thought, and exhaled. She turned and walked away, leaving the door ajar. Kirsten heard two people talking. One of the voices belonged to a man. A tall, dark-haired man with a less than tan complexion came to the door and stared at Kirsten. At first, Kirsten was speechless. This guy looked a lot like Seth. She blinked a few times and spoke. "Hi, I'm-"

"You're not Nancy."

Kirsten took a step back. "No," she said, her voice much quieter now. "I'm not. But I need your help. If you're Art."

"I am." He stepped toward Kirsten and shut the door. "What kind of help do you need?"

"You know my son, Ryan Atwood?"

"I know a guy named Ryan Atwood, but I know he isn't your son. His mom's fatter, wears a lot more makeup."

"I adopted him, and I am much more a mother than Dawn could ever be. Now you said you know him, right?"

"Yeah."

"Where is he?"

"He's with a friend. I saw him a few days ago. Gave him a ride."

"Where? I need an address."

"I don't know. I dropped him off on a street, not at a house. And I don't keep up with old friends' addresses."

"There must be something you can tell me. Why has he disappeared from a loving home to come _here_?"

"Ryan's has some stuff to take care of," Art said calmly, not even looking away or thinking before he spoke.

"Well, if you're going to be so vague about it, will you at least tell me if he's in any kind of danger or trouble?"

"Sure. Ryan's in deep. Way over his head. But there's nothing you can do about it."

Kirsten felt her heart breaking. "You-you don't know that. I'm very wealthy, if my son needs money, he can have it."

"Please, miss, when you're in Chino, try to refrain from calling Ryan your son. People here take it literally, and no one wants to see a Chino thug getting together with a rich crowd. Not to mention, there are a lot of people who wouldn't mind seeing Dawn dead. When you parade around saying he's your son, people think you might be her. She hasn't been here in a few years, so how would anyone know the difference? And as far as you being wealthy, your money would definitely be very helpful to keeping Ryan alive, but Ryan already said he doesn't want to drag you and the rest of your family into this."

Kirsten grabbed Art's collar, having realized how effective that sort of thing was on getting information out of people. "What do you mean the money would help keep Ryan alive?"

Art grabbed Kirsten's wrists and twisted them. Kirsten whimpered in pain. "Don't do that, lady. You don't threaten me. Now Ryan's probably going to die whether you like it or not. He might live, but it's a very, very slim chance. He ain't sick or anything, but he is in trouble. Big, big, bigger than New Port trouble."

"Just tell me what kind of money he needs! I'll get it!"

"Not in time. The money was due a couple days ago, as far as I've been told, and it's grown some interest. It's due in a few hours, and you acting like some crazy bitch isn't doing anyone a bit of good. Ryan needs over half a million dollars for the stuff Trey stole."

Half a million dollars? Kirsten might be able to get her hands on that, but not in such short time. Unless...

"Look, I'm a very powerful woman where I come from, and I can get that money."

"Once again, I'm sure you can, but Ryan doesn't want you in this. Do you even know what Trey stole?"

"No, please tell me."

"Heroin. Trust me, sweetcheeks, even if the drugdealers did get that money in time, they would steal beat Ryan to a blood pulp just to teach him a lesson."

"Why? Ryan didn't steal it!"

"They already beat the Trey because the money was late. I know these guys won't go peacefully. Look, I'm sorry for your future loss of an adopted son, but he's as good as dead."

"And you're just going to let him die?"

Art looked away, which was something he had not done during the entire conversation. "I gotta go." He placed his hand on Kirsten's shoulder. "I really am sorry." Art shut the door. He wished he could have told her that he would be fighting alongside Ryan that night, but she would have wanted more information, and she might have been killed. Ryan would not want that.

Kirsten felt the tears that had already dried on her face. She had not realized that she had been crying for most of her talk with Art. She wanted to bang on the door again and make him come back out, but the world began to spin around her, and she fell.

**Wow, huge load off my mind. Listen, if you are reading this, I am updating at this very moment. I've got only a few minutes, but there is so much more I want to add. I'm currently on Thanksgiving break, like everyone else in my school district, and I hope to get around to finishing this story and maybe starting on a new one. Yay! Okay, so read and review, then sit tight for the next update.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey! I don't know who to thank for reviews, because I update like five minutes ago. I gotta work fast, so this intro is pretty short. Oh, also, I'm putting Setha and Marissa back in because I realized (oops!) I forgot to keep up with them! I was so obsessed with Kirsten and Ryan that I completely forgot! Sorry!**

**Disclaimer: nothing.**

"Seth, we've called every hospital!"

"I know that, I've been doing all the calling. At least we know Ryan isn't hurt. Do you want to try and call my mom?"

"Do you think she'd talk to us? When Sandy called, he said she sounded insane."

"It's worth a try."

Seth dialed his mother's number and put his ear to the cellphone. A man answered.

"Hello?"

"Uh, where's my mom? Did you steal this from her? Is she okay?"

"Woah, slow down. Your mom's right here, kid-"

"Oh, my gosh, is she a hostage?" Marissa sent Seth some looks and mouthed, "what's up", but Seth was not paying attention to her.

"No, she just fainted. Or passed out. Something. But she's fine. She hit her head on the sidewalk, so she'll be out for a while, but I'm taking care of her."

"You better not hurt her you sick freak."

"I won't lay a hand on her. Just a bag of ice on her forehead. I promise."

"Where's Ryan?"

"Can't tell you."

"Is he okay?"

"He won't be after tonight."

"What?" Seth dropped the phone, having lost the ability to use his muscles properly, but he regained his bearings. "What are you going to do to him?"

"Me? Why do you keep blaming me? I'm trying to help him. Look, he might live. Maybe. And I'm only saying that to give you hope. Now will you please come and pick up your mother? I have stuff to do."

"Yeah, I'm already in Chino. Where do you live?"

Seth appeared in a matter of minutes. "Mom!" he yelled, rushing over to her. She did not stir.

"What's wrong with her? Shouldn't she wake up?"

"I told you, she hit her head when she fell."

"Oh yeah? Prove it. I bet you hit her."

"Put your hand on the back of her head. She was bleeding. There's some blood on the sidewalk, too. Not very much, her vital signs are normal. But when you hit something, you're bound to bleed."

"How do you even know her vital signs are normal?"

"I study medical books. I may be in my twenties and living in Chino, but I got dreams. Now take her and go home."

Marissa stepped forward. "No way. Not until you tell me where Ryan is."

"You must be his girlfriend. Look, honey, I can't give you that kind of information even if I did know the exact address. Just get back to New Port where you belong."

"No." Marissa crossed her arms over her chest. "You take me to Ryan, or...or I'll..."

"Save it. There's nothing you can do to me. I have to get going. My girl will show you out." Art put his jacket on and walked out the door. Marissa eagerly followed him and threw herself against his car, forbidding him to get in.

"Get out of my way."

"No."

"You're only hurting Ryan by doing this. I'm one of the guys who'll be protecting him tonight. If I'm not there, his chances of getting killed are only higher." Marissa thought about this a moment and slowly stepped away. Art stepped into the car and sped away.

Marissa wiped a tear from her cheek and walked back inside the house. Seth was trying to resuscitate Kirsten, and she had begun to come around.

"Seth, I couldn't stop him. What should we do?"

"Mom's almost awake, so I guess we just ask her what she knows. Mom, Mom." Seth shook her gently. Kirsten's eyes opened. "Seth," she grumbled. Marissa went behind Kirsten and helped the woman sit up. "Ryan, Ryan, no, Art," she said. Seth and Marissa exchanged looks. "Kirsten, it's us. Marissa and Seth. Art isn't here anymore. You fainted."

"What? I-" her eyes widened as she became fully awake. "Ryan's dead!"

"What?" Marissa and Seth screamed in unison.

"No, he's not dead yet. But he will be. We have to save him. I have to get the money." Kirsten stood, but nearly fell back down as dizziness overwhelmed her.

"Money? What kind of trouble is Ryan in?"

"Drugs! Trey stole drugs! He-he got beat up. Ryan needs help."

"How can we help him if we don't even know where he is?"

"We can find him!" Marissa replied.

"Art said he was staying with a friend, but that was all he would say. Wait, I have the addresses of some of his friends! I got them from the group home Ryan used to live at!"

"How'd you manage that?"

"Oh, well this guy named Paul had come in a couple days before me and gotten a bunch of addresses, so I said I was involved with Paul, and I ended up blackmailing the lady into giving them to me!"

"Paul? Maybe that's who Ryan's with!"

"Well, that's no good for us! I didn't get Paul's address because I just asked for what Paul got, and why would he need his own address? Shit!"

**Okay, the next chapter will be the fight scene, I just needed to clear some stuff up in these past two. I will definitely update again today, but I'm not sure what time. Maybe now, maybe in a few hours. Stay tuned. **


	13. Chapter 13

**Here I am again! With the third update today! Happy? I am! Okay, okay, fight scene, wow, huge rush, happiness! I've got Staind playing "Right Here" (I love that song!) to help me brainstorm and make this story. Music is so helpful, and it totally sets the mood.**

**Disclaimer: I own it all! Just kidding. **

The cold bit at Ryan's cheeks, and he shivered, although he wasn't sure if it was because of the cold or because of fear. Paul put his hand on Ryan's arm. "Don't worry. You got your weapons on you. You should be able to get in a few good hits and stuff." Ryan nodded, once again grasping the knife in one of his pockets and the brass knuckles in the other pocket. Art's car pulled up in the empty parking lot. He shoved a few bullets into the barrel of his gun as he stepped out of the car. Juan, Ben, and Smack were already there, along with Trey, who appeared unusually jumpy and fearful. They were all waiting on Theo. Art walked up ot the group of teenagers. "I have some bad news, boys. One of the drug dealers got to Theo. He's in the hospital with multiple stab wounds. Those guys are dead serious about that money."

"Do they know we don't have it?"

"Maybe. I don't know if they tried to kill Theo or if they just tried to mess him up, but he's hurt pretty bad. I don't know how they knew he was in on this."

"What if they know we plan to fight them?"

"It doesn't matter; they always come armed."

"How do you know so much, Art?"

"I used to run with them. They sort of adopted me into their gang after I got out of the group home, but only for a couple months. I didn't like how brutal they were."

"Hey, that might be a good thing. Maybe they'll be lienient on us."

"Doubt it. They don't care about anyone. Not even their own kind. Honestly, I think our plan will fall through."

"Don't say that! We need confidence, not fear! Bullies and gangs run on pure emotions-other people's emotions. They're like dogs: they can sense fear and adrenaline. If we're totally calm, maybe it will throw them off. We still have a chance."

"Oh, great. Here they come." A black SUV pulled into the lot, followed by a silver one. Five men got out. Ryan felt immediate relief at the fact that the drugdealers were outnumbered. The drugdealers walked toward the seven teenagers.

"Who's got the money?"

"Nobody," Paul replied, confident and angry.

The man who had asked laughed. The other four drugdealers joined in.

"What's so funny?" Ryan asked, in the same tone of voice Paul had used.

"Oh, that's a good one. Nobody has the money. Oh, thank you for that. I needed a good laugh. Oh, I'm sorry, where are my manners? I'm Anthony. This is Knuckles, Breech, Ed, and Charlie. And you are all dead unless you give me my money."

"Didn't you hear us the first time, you fat hog? Nobody's got the money."

"Very well," Anthony said with a frown. "Boys." The four men behind Anthony began pulling their own weapons from inside their shirts and jackets and pants pockets. The seven teenagers pulled out their weapons as well. Ryan slipped his hands into the brass knuckles, getting a chill from feeling the ice cold brass. As Art pulled out his gun, Anthony spoke.

"Now, guys. Guns? I mean feel free to defend yourselves, but a gun is quite an unfair advantage. Unload that gun and toss it aside. There's a perfectly good two-by-four a few feet behind you. There." Art did as Anthony had said, realizing that he did not wish to go to jail for murder.

"Okay, Anthony. Let's just do this."

"Fine. But since it is understood that this is now a gang fight, I challange Art. I remember you well. You're too soft. I hope for your sake and your friends, that you've changed." Art knew the rules. He and Anthony would circle each other, and as soon as one of them was hit by the other, the fight was on between the gangs. Art and Anthony began to circle each other. Ryan felt himself growing more and more nervous by the second. He told himself to remember the plan. Anthony grinned wickedly at Art. Art swallowed and tried to appear tough. Anthony stomped his right foot, and Art swayed for a moment out of shock. Anthony chuckled, realizing how afraid Art really was. Paul nodded at Ryan, and the group of teenagers began to build a circle around the drugdealers, who looked around in confusion. Anthony saw this but tried to keep his focus on Art, who had begun to grin a little. That was the plan. To confuse and strike. Anthony was definitely confused. Art slammed his fist into Anthony's jaw, and the fight was on.

Ryan tackled Ed, and the two tumbled to the ground, throwing punches. Ed grabbed Ryan by the shirt and rolled on top of him, punching the teenager mercilessly. Meanwhile, Trey kicked Breech in the stomach, sending the large man backward, but he did not fall. He angrily came at Trey and began choking him.

Paul had taken over for Art, and Anthony was down.

Art smashed his two-by-four against Charlie's cheek. Charlie cried out and grasped his face in pain. Art jumped on his back and dragged him to his knees.

Ryan drove his knee into Ed's thigh, hoping to push the man away. Ed fell away and groped his leg. Ryan straddled Ed's abdomen and slammed Ed's head into the concrete ground, just before Knuckles' club met the back of his head. Ryan's vision blurred, went black, then returned double. Knuckles was about to bash him again, but Ryan blocked the blow with his foot. Then the teenager swept Knuckles off his feet with a swift move he had once seen on TV. Unfortunately, Knuckles was back up before Ryan and shoved his foot into Ryan's rib cage. Ryan yelled out in pain and rolled onto his side, reflexively curling into a ball. Knuckles kicked Ryan in the back, right where one of Ryan's lungs were. When Knuckles went to kick the nearly helpless teenager again, he was greeted with a painful surprise. Ryan drove his knife into the drugdealer's leg. Knuckles pulled away quickly, allowing the knife to stay in Ryan's hand. Ryan stood up, even though it hurt him terribly. He swiped the knife across Knuckles' forehead, only creating a cut and causing Knuckles to fall out of fear and shock. Suddenly Ryan felt a muscular arm around his neck. He could feel the arm crushing his trachea, and Ryan fought for his freedom and circulation. Ryan jabbed his elbow into the man's rib cage, which did not do much, so he rammed the heel of his foot into the man's knee. The man, Breech, screamed and fell to the ground. Ryan knew he had ruined Breech's knee; it only takes eight pounds of pressure to do so. If Breech was here, who was Trey fighting? Ryan looked over at his brother, who was laying face down on the ground coughing violently. Ryan ran to him and bent down on one knee to see the damage, but Ed yanked Ryan up off the ground. Ryan quickly turned and thrust the heel of his hand into Ed's nose. It must have broken immediately because blood practically exploded from his nostrils. Ryan felt a hand clap down roughly on his shoulder and spun around to face his attacker. It was only Paul, whose lip was cut and cheek was bruised. Paul's breathing was shaky as he asked if Ryan was alright. Ryan nodded and pointed to Trey, who was now on his hands and knees, still coughing. Paul nodded and ran to Trey, attempting to help him up. Ryan surveyed the area, realizing that everyone was either on the ground screaming in pain, or on the ground unconscious. Paul and Ryan were the only exceptions, or at least that's what Ryan thought. Until a gun shot rang out and Paul fell.

"PAUL!" Ryan screamed. Anthony had grabbed the gun that Art had thrown aside. He had taken the bullets from the fallen Art, but how could no one have noticed any of that? Ryan was about to charge into Anthony, but he was brought down by a concrete slab.

**Wow, what do y'all think? Ha, ha, I got your adrenaline pumping, and now you won't know what happens until I update! Mwa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...yeah. I have to go. I'll update soon, though. Love ya. **


	14. Chapter 14

**Thank you MHS02 and Leentje for your reviews! Man that was a lot of work! I'm excited about this one, too. We don't get to see the damage yet, but we'll catch up with our worried threesome.**

**Disclaimer: I disclaim owning anything**

Kirsten sighed, still in disbelief that she could not help Ryan. Marissa and Seth tried to comfort her with hugs and words of hope, which they themselves did not believe.

"I just wish I knew he was alright. I wish I could be with him. If I only knew where he was."

"Mom, it's getting late. Look, Ryan will be fine. You'll see. He'll call us soon and ask us why we aren't home."

"Yeah, Kirsten. I mean, Ryan's told me so many Chino horror stories, times he should have been killed by AJ's beatings or drunk driving incidents, or drugs, or fights, but he always lived. A little more bruised and scarred than before, but not dead. He'll be fine."

"I hope so," Kirsten said, wiping away another tear. "I need to call Sandy and tell him what's going on. He's probably wondering where we are, and he's probably afraid to talk to me because of how I acted earlier. I think I may have yelled at him over the phone trying to get Ryan's old address. I'll call him." Kirsten pulled out her cellphone and stood. She started to walk outside, and Seth followed her, planning to give his father his two cents on the situation. Marissa put her hand to her forehead, worrying for Ryan.

"Here, sweetie," Art's girlfriend said softly, handing Marissa two Advils. "You look like you're getting a headache."

"Thanks. This whole thing is so...scary."

"I know what you mean. My Art is out there too. But I'm used to this by now. He works with paramedics, and I'm used to seeing him leave to save a life. Sometimes he tends to people who have been shot or really beat up. I get scared that maybe the attackers will come back and hurt him."

"Tracy, could you please, please tell me what's going on?"

"Sweetie, you already know I can't. Art won't allow it. It would put you in danger, and Ryan, and my Art, and whoever else is with them."

"Can you tell me...if Ryan's alright?"

"I don't know."

"Well, everyone keeps saying that he's going to die. Is he sick? Does he have a terminal disease?" Marissa's voice broke and tears began streaming down her pale face for the fourth time.

"No, darling, it ain't anything like that. I haven't seen Ryan, but if he really is as strong as you keep saying he is, then he won't die."

"So, is he really badly hurt? Like...shot?"

"Once again, I don't know."

"But Art told you."

"There's some complications. Let me put it to you like this, from what I understand, Ryan is in good health. That could change. And that's all I can say about that."

"Is there some sort of threat against him?"

"Marissa, I already told you too much. Please don't pry. I feel for you, and I sympathize with you. But I can't help, other than make sure you are in good health for right now. And speaking of which, dinner will be done in about ten minutes. You can tell Kirsten and Seth when they come back in. Don't sit here and worry your pretty little head off, sweetie." Tracy pulled a tissue from her apron and wiped off Marissa's cheeks, before returning to the kitchen to check on the pasta she was cooking. She had allowed the three to stay there since none of them were in any condition to drive home. They were all so sad and numb to the world.

"Sandy, hi."

"Kirsten! Are you alright? What's going on?"

"I...I don't really know. Marissa, Seth, and I are here in Chino."

"Chino? Where's Ryan? Is he in some kind of trouble? Are you crying?"

"I...I was crying. We don't know where Ryan is. But we know he's in trouble. That's what everyone keeps saying."

"You don't know where he is?"

"No. He lied to us about being with Marissa. He told her he had the flu and was in the hospital. But he's been here the whole time."

"Is he in a hospital? Have you checked?"

"Seth and Marissa checked all the hospitals in Fresno, New Port, and Chino, and he isn't in any."

"Well, at least he isn't hurt."

"I don't know. People keep saying...he'll die tonight."

"Die? Tonight? Who says that? Why? What's going on?"

"I found some of Ryan's old friends. One of them, Art, told us he would die, but he wouldn't say why. We're at his house now."

"Let me have a word with this guy," Sandy said, angry and panicked.

"He left to help Ryan."

"Help Ryan do what?"

"We don't know. No one will tell us anything. I guess we'll find out when Art gets back."

"Honey, I'm coming down there. We'll find him."

"No, Sandy. We can't find him. I even checked his old house and a bunch of other places. It's like he's hiding from us. But I am worried about the kids. They don't need to be here. They could get hurt."

"Mom..." Seth whined from beside her.

"Seth, I don't like the thought of you getting killed in a drive-by shooting," Kirsten said, covering the mouth piece of her phone.

"Is Seth there?"

"Yes. He and Marissa drove up here to find me and Ryan."

"And we're not leaving until we find Ryan." Seth declared, making sure his father heard him.

"Honey, Seth's right. I don't like him being in Chino either, but Ryan's his best friend and brother. And Marissa loves Ryan. Remember when I got in a surfing accident, but you didn't know where I was, and you went to the beach to look for me even though your father forbid it, and you found me washed up on the beach with a broken arm?"

"Sandy, this is entirely different."

"How? Seth and Marissa are in danger, sure, but it's for love. You can forbid it all you want, but they won't obey. And I won't either. I love Ryan like I love Seth, and I'll be in Chino in a few hours whether you like it or not. Can I talk to Seth?"

Kirsten sighed, rubbed her forehead and hesitantly handed the phone to her son.

"Dad, I'm staying. I don't care-"

"Yes, Seth, that's fine."

"Really?"

"Yes, now give me the address of the house you're at."

Seth smiled. "Alright, Dad."

**Hey, I tried using little star thingies to separate people's views. I hope that makes it easier to read. Anyway, the next chapter will contain damages. However, I really want reviews. I got two reviews on my three-updates-in-one-day day, and I worked so hard for y'all. As soon as I get at least five more reviews, y'all will get the damages. See ya.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thank you amyordinary and MHS02 and Dogsbody (I love your comment!) and Silver Dog Demon (I especially loved your review) and koolkerry25 and midnightair for your reviews! That's at least five, so here's my update. Oh, I was so glad to see them! I was going to put the damages in chapter 14, but I realized that I needed to keep up with Kirsten and the teens. I just wanted to make sure that they didn't do anything sort of suddenly, because I see that a lot in movies and it irritates me so. But here's some...not really action, but it is the effects of the action, which I think is sooooo hot. Anyways, thanks again!**

**Disclaimer: I almost forgot to disclaim everything. (But I didn't). (Obviously). **

Ryan fought to open his eyes. When his right eye was open, the light seemed to burn it. He shut it quickly and moaned. All of the soreness rushed back into his body. His memory was scrambled at first. He momentarily forgot about his new life and the fight and thought he was back home. Surely AJ had been on his usual drinking binge and had beaten Ryan like any normal night. But the sound of a familiar voice brought his memories speeding through his aching head. Had they won the fight miraculously? Was Paul okay? Where was he now? Ryan opened his right eye once more, realizing that his left must be a black eye. The light that had previously enflamed his pupil was actually very dim. Ryan tried to sit up but lay back down after a shard of pain pierced his abdomen. Bruises, no doubt. Maybe broken ribs from where one of the guys had kicked him. Ryan winced as he recalled the painful event.

"Ry, stay down. Trust me, you don't want to sit up." it was Art. He placed something cold on Ryan's left eye. Ryan could make out some blue stitching on Art's right cheek. It had not been there before the fight.

"Art, are we in a hospital?"

"No, we're at my place."

"Who did your stitches?"

"I did. Just finished them. I've been taking care of everyone. I know, it's weird, but I've been studying medical books for the past two years. I'm going to apply to a school soon. Get my degree."

"That's great." Ryan smiled slightly, but frowned when he remembered the gun shot and Paul's body being thrust to the ground by an invisible bullet. "Where's Paul? Is he okay?" Art frowned and looked away a moment, and Ryan suddenly felt weighed down by the guilt of what he assumed was death. "Art," Ryan said, in a much more demanding voice.

"He'll be fine. Tony hit him in the shoulder, but he got an artery. Paul lost a lot of blood. I got him in a tourniquet as fast as I could. He's still out."

"What about everyone else?"

"They're all fine. A few fractures, stab wounds, scratches, bruises, concussions, stuff like that. I'm not a professional yet, but I have done my studying. You've got a fractured rib, and a broken rib. I think the second one's broken, it might just be a really nasty fracture. You have bruises on your abdomen, back, face, a black eye, and other than that, you're going to be really sore for at least a week. Much longer for the ribs. Maybe six weeks. But everyone's going to be fine."

"What happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure. I was on the ground. Then I woke up and heard a gunshot. I looked over, heard you yell Paul's name, then one of the dealers bashed you over the head with a lead pipe. That was a scary noise. I thought your skull cracked. You went down fast. Then I tried to get up, but I was too dizzy to gain balance. I heard some sirens, and Tony and some other guy ran off. The sirens passed us, me and Trey dragged you and Ben and Paul and Smack into our cars, and we drove you here. But I'd definitely say we lost that fight. The last two standing were both drug dealers. They would have killed us if not for those sirens."

"Thanks, Art. You're a real friend."

"No problem. I can use the training for med school." He smiled, and Ryan did, too.

Kirsten rubbed her eyes. She was exhausted. She couldn't sleep. She was too worried about Ryan. Sandy looked over at her and ran his hand over her hair.

"Sweetie, it'll be alright." He had picked up Kirsten, Seth, and Marissa from Art's house and taken them for a midnight fastfood dinner, but none of them really had an appetite. They just wanted to get back to Art's house and wait for him to come home with news of Ryan. They would be there in about twenty minutes or so.

Trey brushed Ryan's bangs aside. "Hey, bro."

"Trey, what's up? Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I think I'm less hurt than you. You know I'm not one for emotions, but I, I uh, just want to say thanks."

"What's family for? I'm just glad no one got killed."

"Yeah." Trey leaned down to hug his brother, and Ryan began to sit up, having forgotten about his ribs. He felt an extreme, sudden shot of pain in one of his lungs. He cried out, and grasped his side, wincing as he lay back down.

"Ryan! Ryan, what's wrong?"

"Ribs," he gasped. "I broke one, (gasp) and fractured one." He tried to catch his breath, but he was still in deep pain. One of the ribs must have pierced his lung. Would he die? No, probably not. The pain was familiar from when Ryan had lived in Chino with AJ He just wasn't used to it anymore.

"What happened?" Art asked, running around the corner.

"I just sat up." Ryan was still gulping down air, and his eyes were tightly shut as he tried to block out the pain.

"I told you you shouldn't. Did the broken rib hit your lung?"

"How'd you guess?"

"That's the organ it's closest to. And you're gasping like crazy. Do yourself a favor-don't sit up."

"Not going to be a problem."

"Get some rest, man. That's the best thing for you."

"Okay." Ryan shut his eyes and tried to sleep as Trey disappeared.

**Wow, I know it has been forever, and I did have this like almost finished quite a few days ago, except for the last two quotes and last sentence. I just have been too lazy to get on the computer, and I wanted to put so much more in. Oh well, I'll save it for chapter 16. Later.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Thank you MHS02 and midnightair and Leentje and Dogsbody for your reviews! I know it feels like forever, but here is my update. How is everyone's Christmas break going? I assume that most kids are on break because all of Cy-Fair is, and that includes me. I love breaks. Today gave me a chance to go through and read other Ryan angst stories, and I found some really enticing ones. I plan to look again tomorrow. If you are a writer and are reading this, please keep up with your updating. I know I'm not perfect, and no one is, and I know I fall behind sometimes. But an entire month without an update is crazy. You have hungry minds to feed! Tis the season! Anyways, enjoy, and y'all have a Merry Christmas or Happy Hanukkah. If you celebrate Kwanza, have fun I guess. I don't know what Kwanza is, but I think it's like black appreciation day. Oh, and have a gnarly New Year. This chapter kept me on the edge of my seat, but that might just be because my kitten took up the entire back half of the chair. Or maybe the chapter is just that good (wink wink). You decide (with reviews!). **

**Disclaimer: I'm out of sarcastic remarks for this one, so I'll just say it blatantly: I own nothing.**

"Sandy, are we almost there?"

"Yeah, honey," Sandy said, his voice quiet and shaky. He had driven very slowly, despite Kirsten's voice telling him that he was twenty miles under the speed limit. Sandy was so afraid of what Art would say to them. Would Ryan be alright? Even though everybody said he would die for sure? Ryan was strong, and Sandy knew that. All that the teenager had dealt with proved it. Sandy just hoped he was right.

Art wandered into his bedroom where Paul lay on the bed, obviously in a great deal of pain.

"Paul, hey. You don't have to say anything, just rest. I'm really glad you're okay. That gun shot scared the hell out of me. I thought for sure you were a goner. I've never been more happy to be wrong." Art gently smiled. He switched out the damp washcloth that covered Paul's forehead for a warmer one, hoping to calm Paul's stomach, which had been less than settled for the longest time. Paul was awake, and Art could tell that he was trying to remain calm and strong, but his pale complexion and facial expressions of pain hid that well.

"Art," Paul rasped. "You've always been...a great guy...and friend. I guess I've...never thanked you for that, but...thanks." Paul had a hard time breathing and had to break several times during sentences, but his voice never once broke.

"Paul,...Paul you're welcome. But don't talk like that. You're talking like you're dying. You're going to be fine. I told you that I stopped the bleeding. The hospital's a little full right now, but in no time you'll have all the blood you need and that bullet will be gone. Just a scar for you to remember those dealers." Art placed his own hand on Paul's. "Hell, we'll all leave with scars. Whether big or little, or visible or internal, this is a night we won't soon forget."

Kirsten burst out of the car, even before Sandy had come to a complete stop. She saw Art's car in the driveway. He was back. Hopefully with news of Ryan. Or better yet, Ryan in the flesh. Kirsten hoped for such luck as she raced to the front door. Without even knocking, Kirsten threw the door open. The first thing she saw brought her to her knees. Her adopted son lie on the couch, eyes shut, face pale but covered in blood and bruises. Kirsten felt strong arms pulling her up. Sandy held her tightly, staring at Ryan. Marissa and Seth appeared behind the two and stopped, breathless, at the sight of the beaten teenager. Art suddenly walked in, a concerned look upon his face.

"Oh, I...I thought _THEY_ were here. The way the door just crashed open. You guys look like you've seen a ghost."

Art followed their stubborn eyes to Ryan. "Oh, well close enough to a ghost I suppose."

"Why? Is he...I mean, did he..." Sandy's expression became hopeful when Art gave him a weird look.

"Sandy, he's fine. He's just out. I'm glad, honestly." Art walked over to Ryan and started to take his radial pulse, staring at his watch for timing. "He's been through a lot, like the rest of us. But I know Ry. He's tough, and all the guys who stayed with his mom used to do a lot worse. Oh, good, his heart rate's down. It was up pretty high about fifteen minutes ago. Man, he's really out." Art stood and turned back to the Cohens and Marissa, who had taken a few steps forward. "He tried to sit up earlier, but found out the hard way that it was a bad idea."

"Why?" Kirsten blurted, fear in her voice. "What's wrong with him?"

"Broken rib, fractured rib. Plus he's got some pretty bad bruises on his abdomen. If he tries sitting up again, he could severely damage internal organs."

"Why isn't he in the hospital?"

"Same reason no one else is. Well, actually it's just Paul and Ryan that should be in the hospital to begin with. Everyone else has minor injuries compared to these two. Anyway, I need an ambulence to pick them up. I can't move a guy with a bullet in his shoulder, and I've just told you what might happen if Ryan moves a lot."

"So Paul is the one who was shot, right? Not Ryan?"

"Yeah. But Paul's fine. He's just in a lot of pain. And Ryan's going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up, so if you wouldn't mind leaving Ry alone, I'll bet he'd appreciate it."

"It's done." Sandy declared, his knees no longer shaking at the horrible feeling he had had in his gut when he'd first entered the house.

"Great. Also, I've got a lot of work to do around here, what with all these patients. So, I guess try to find something quiet and out of the way to do. Maybe take a car ride. But be really careful, this is Chino." Art started to turn, but stopped. "On second thought, maybe you should go home. I don't mean to be rude, but this whole thing isn't over. And Ryan will freak if he wakes up and sees you guys here. He didn't want to drag you guys into this mess."

"Now wait just a minute, Art," Sandy started. "What exactly is going on? Who's hurting our son and everyone you're talking about? Is it a gang?"

"I can't disclose that information."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah? Well so am I. If you want to stay here, fine. I realize this has got to be murder on you guys. But don't question Ryan about this. You know as well as I do that he won't tell you anything, and the questions will just make everything worse. Ryan's got it hard enough with all this shit on his chest." Art turned and went back to Paul's room. He had not meant to be rude with his words, but he was unsure of how to handle the situation. The Cohens were worried, of course, and Ryan was pretty much their son, but it was the Cohens' concern for Ryan verses Ryan's concern for the Cohens. And Paul was much better friends with Ryan, and he wanted to make Ryan feel better. After all, Ryan was doing this all for his stupid brother voluntarily. And it was for Ryan that the entire group of longlost friends had reunited. Of course, it was under difficult circumstances, but Art was fine with that, and most of the group probably was, too. The only one in the group who had really succeeded in life was Ryan. Paul was a drugdealer, Art was working on his success still, and the others had deadend jobs or were unemployed. Ryan was only really successful because he had survived his series of abusive "fathers", survived Chino, and was currently surviving a complete lifechange in an upperclass town with a bunch of snooty richy-rich types. Ryan was a success because he was a survivor. No, not just a survivor. An extraordinarily strong survivor. And maybe it wasn't because he was able to do everything. He was not able to walk on water, after all. But he could sure fool Art and anyone else into believing that he could.

Kirsten took a seat on the living room floor, and the others followed her action. They were all still taken aback by Art's words, and they were all still trying to figure out the enigma of what was going on. Kirsten studied Ryan's chest, moving cyclically up, then down, then pausing, then moving back up. He had not yet stirred, and Kirsten wished that he would. But another part of her wanted him to remain in slumber because he looked so damn peaceful. Also because of what Art had said. He was right. Maybe they should leave. But Kirsten knew she would not. Her maternal instincts told her she had to stay. And she never fought those instincts. She sighed.

**Okay, so I hope you guys really really liked it. There's more updating I intend to do, but fyi, I am going to start a new fanfic soon. I do not know what it will be called, but it will be under my pen name, and it will be Ryan angst (my fav!). Also, it will be a different plot, of course, but there will be some sort of sexy fight scene in it, because that's just my thing. Just a heads up. Once again, have a Merry Christmukkah and Happy New Year. **


	17. Chapter 17

**Thanks Leentje and Midnightair and for your reviews! Much appreciated! Kay, so here's the next chapter! Oh, I haven't started on my next fanfic, but I probably will next week. Wooo! Oh, my gosh, I just learned the lyrics to this Beck song "Loser". He says "Soy un Perdedor", which means "I'm a loser" in Spanish, I think. How weird is that? It's just something I had wondered about, then looked up on the net. I listen to the Buzz a lot (94.5). **

**Disclaimer: Nada.**

Ryan opened his eyes slightly. The room was dark. It must be late at night or early in the morning, he decided. He was still sore all over and did not want to get up. He started to shut his eyes, but the sound of a soft moan caused him to hesitate. He turned his head to his right, even though his neck hurt terribly from having slept on a couch for hours. Kirsten, Sandy, Marissa, and Seth were sleeping on the floor, each of them covered by a blanket. Ryan could not believe it. How had they found him? He knew they would find out that he was missing, but how did they even know who Art was? How long had they been there? Did they know what was going on? No, surely Art would never tell them. But Trey might. Ryan grew increasingly worried by his own questions. He had to leave. He could not be here when they awoke and questioned him mercilessly like he knew they would. And he did not want to be there to see Marissa break down into tears, begging him to come home. He did not want to be guilt tripped into anything. And he definitely did not want to hear Sandy saying that he would get feds on the drugdealers. Or offer money. Ryan slowly eased himself off the couch. First his legs, which did not hurt too badly. Then Ryan was almost in a sitting position, and he could already feel terrible pain in what he assumed was one of his lungs. He would have to be very careful in standing. He threw his arms back and grabbed the back of the couch. He stretched his legs out as far as they would go before using his hands to push himself to a standing position. A cry of pain somehow managed to escape his clenched teeth. Kirsten shifted in her sleep, and Ryan thought that she had heard him. Luckily, she continued to sleep. Ryan stumbled out of the house, trying with much difficulty to be quiet. When he was finally outside, he allowed himself to gasp and groan. He knew he had to lie down, but he could not stay there. Ryan began to limp away from the house, hoping he could find a motel nearby.

XXX

Art stepped out of Paul's room, slowly shutting the door behind him. He walked into the living room, expecting to see Ryan dozing on the couch. Instead, he saw no one on the couch. Slightly confused, Art wandered into the kitchen, hoping Ryan was fixing breakfast for himself. The only one in the kitchen was Juan who was rolling a joint. He looked up and grinned at Art.

"Want one? I got plenty to go around."

"Not now. Ryan's gone, and I need to keep a clear head."

"Mind if I light up? It takes more than one joint to mess me up."

"Knock yourself out. But I need you to help me while you smoke. Oh, how's your knife wound this morning?"

Juan stuck the joint between his lips and stared at his arm. "It's okay I guess. It doesn't hurt too bad. Hey, did you check the bathroom?"

"No." Art disappeared down the hall and tapped on the door, which was shut. "Ryan? You in there?"

"Nah, it's Smack. I'm just brushing my teeth." Art became panicked. He knew Ryan was a big guy and could handle himself, but what if the drugdealers had broken in and taken him? What if they planned to hurt Ryan like they had hurt Theo? Art chewed on his lower lip as he made it to the front door.

"Art," Kirsten said from behind him. She was just getting up. Art stared at her, his face pale. Kirsten, knowing something was wrong, looked at the couch and realized that Ryan was not on it. She gasped and turned to Art, who had gained his composure, and his scared expression was restored to the strong, sure one. "Art," she started to plead.

"Come on."

XXX

"Group home, hospitals, old house, friend's house, New Port, Fresno," Kirsten rattled off more possible locations of Ryan.

"How about none of the above?" Art suggested.

"What makes you say that?"

"Ryan isn't running away from this...event. He's no coward. My guess is he saw you guys and bolted. He's definitely still in the city. But he would not go to the group home or a friend's house because there's too many questions that will get asked. He wouldn't go to his old house because he's already in bad shape, and whoever his mom's sleeping with now would kick his ass for sure."

"No shit, I went to that house. But Dawn isn't there."

"Yeah, I know that. Hey, wait did you just cuss?"

"Got a problem with that?"

"You just don't seem like the type."

"Why wouldn't Ryan be in a hospital? I mean, I know he wouldn't go voluntarily, but what if someone found him?"

"That's possible, I guess. Hold on, my phone's going off." Art applied pressure to the brakes and pulled off the road. He pulled out the phone. "Hello?"

"Art!"

"Ryan?" As Art said the name, Kirsten threw off her seatbelt and leaned over, hoping to hear Ryan's voice. Art quickly covered the mouthpiece with his hand and looked at Kirsten.

"Don't speak or even breathe loudly. Ryan will hang up if he knows you're here."

Kirsten nodded, and Art took his hand off the phone.

"Art, sorry I left, but I saw the Cohens and Marissa, and I didn't want-"

"Ryan, Ryan, it's cool, man, I understand. Where are you?"

"I won't say until I know where you are."

"What?"

"I need to know that you are not home. I don't want anyone to overhear. We need to talk about the plan." Art looked at Kirsten, and she sent him a questioning glance. He tugged on the door handle and stepped outside. Kirsten did not make an attempt to follow. He shut the door and walked a few feet away from his car.

"Okay, it's safe."

"I'm at a Motel 6 on Wellington."

"I figured you couldn't have gone far. I bet you're in a lot of pain, though."

"You got that right. I feel like my rib ripped through my lung, but I can still breathe, so it must not be that bad."

"You always take everything so lightly. But seriously, you should not be up and about."

"I'm laying on the bed here. Look, I can't stay with you as long as they are there."

"Ryan, what if they come for you? Like they came for Theo? We told them there's no money! They could kill you if they wanted! We need to stay together."

Ryan had not thought about that. Art was right.

"Art, man, you're right. But you have got to tell the Cohens to leave. I don't want them anywhere near Chino."

"Ry, I told them to go home several times. Their hearts are set on being with you. You've got a great family."

"I know. And they deserve better. They deserve better than a punk criminal for a son, and they deserve better than drugdealers and gang fights. They don't know anything, do they?"

"No. All they know is that Trey stole heroin. Let me pick you up. What's the room number?" Art stepped back inside his car.

"Seventeen."

Art heard a crash on the other end of the line.

"Ryan?"

There was a distant voice saying something about money and hostage. Tony.

"Ryan! Ryan, say something!"

Art quickly started the car and floored the gas pedal, throwing Kirsten back into her own seat.

"Ryan!" The line went dead.

XXX

"Seventeen," Ryan said, wincing in pain. Suddenly, the door to Ryan's motel room flew open. How could he have forgotten to lock it? Oh, yeah, the pain was too unbearable to think straight, or something like that. Tony held up something that looked like a credit card. Or a room key.

"Can you believe the guy at the counter just handed this baby over? Just like that. Well, I did have to point a gun in his face, but still. He should get fired for that." Tony grinned. Ryan tried to keep a straight face. He was already nauseous, pale, and weak, so that was hard to do. Ryan noticed the two guys to Tony's left and right. Charlie and Ed, if Ryan remembered correctly.

"So, three against one? Doesn't seem very fair to me."

"What are you, chicken?"

"I'm not the one with two guys who could be bouncers. I'd say you're the chicken, Tony."

"Look, wise ass, we didn't come here to fight. We want our money, and you're our hostage until we get it. Then we'll fight. Or we'll just kill you, how about that?"

Ryan could hear Art yelling his name over the phone. Tony briskly walked over and slammed the phone down on the receiver. On second thought, the drugdealer picked it up and whipped Ryan across the face with it. Ryan's head flew to his right, his body following, his rib biting into his lung once more. Ryan felt the hard sting first where the phone had connected with his temple. Then he became breathless, and his lung burned. He rolled back onto his back hastily. He needed to face Tony. The dealer would never take him seriously if he didn't. Ryan forced his head back to the left. Tony glared down at the teenager.

"Who the hell was that on the phone?"

"Cops. They'll be here any minute."

"Why were you talking to cops? You were fine til we got here and hung up the phone."

"I got a friend. He's coming here in a minute, he'll find that guy at the desk you threatened, and the guy will rat you out. You'll be arrested in no time."

"Well, shit, goldylocks, we gotta fly then. Get up."

Ryan knew what was going to happen when he sat up; a certain vital organ in his thoracic cavity would flare up in protest.

"Are you deaf or something? I said get up!" Tony grabbed Ryan's hair and yanked him to the floor. Tony walked to the door and signaled the other two. They both went to Ryan, who could barely breathe or move, and tugged him up by the arms. Ryan cried out, but did not fight.

"What the hell's wrong with him?"

"I don't know, just take him!" They dragged Ryan to the door quickly until Ryan had gained balance and walked. Tony yelled for the two to hurry up. Ryan felt himself slip into unconsciousness for a few seconds, and when he opened his eyes, Ed and Charlie were shoving him into a car.

**I'm updating ASAP, so be aware and excited. Yay! More sexy angst to come! Happy Christmakkuh, everybody!**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thank you Leentje and Koolkerry25 and Midnightair and Dogsbody and Papermonsters for your reviews! I just want to take a second to actually say how much I appreciate you. You guys have reviewed so many times. Seriously, thanks so much. Okay, I know the whole pierced lung thing is kind of confusing, and people have asked about it. I myself was curious, so I actually tried to find some stuff out. I don't want to give away what is going to happen, but I have done my homework and have something planned. I hope your Christmakkuhs were good. Mine was pretty sweet, but I felt really bad because all I got my dad was four little candles, some candy, and a CD (which we will return because it is not the right one- I got him a Bee Gees CD, but I didn't realize it was their songs performed by some other band). **

**Disclaimer: still nothing**

Kirsten watched as Art hung up his cell phone and drove like a wild man.

"Art, what happened? Is he hurt?"

"He...I heard a voice. I'm sure it was To..." Art shut his mouth, realizing he was talking to Kirsten. "I think someone broke in. Then he hung up."

"Whose voice?" Kirsten demanded, firmly. Art swallowed and kept silent. Kirsten demanded an answer.

"Look, stop stressing! Ryan being out and about is bad enough! I didn't even wrap him!"

"What are you talking about?"

"For his ribs. He needs his entire ribcage wrapped in gauze an surrounded with bags of ice. I didn't have much gauze, and what I did have I used on Paul. He needed it more at the time. As far as ice goes, our freezer is on the fritz, and it hasn't produced ice in a week."

"So what happens to Ryan? He'll be okay, won't he?"

"He wasn't okay to begin with, why would he be now? I don't want to worry you, but he's going to give himself a pierced lung. And that only leads to worse things if we can't get him soon."

"You mean...he'll...die?"

"I don't know."

"You're studying medical books, how do you not know?"

"If he doesn't get treatment, the condition that might come of a pierced lung could very well be fatal."

"What condition?"

XXX

Ryan gazed around at the black leather interior. Four door car. Charlie was next to him. Ed was in the passenger seat, and Tony was driving. Ryan was sweating and shaking. What was wrong with him? He slipped into unconsciousness. When he awoke, it must not have been very long, he was still in the car, and Tony was cussing and yelling about something. Ryan leaned forward, feeling very sick. A sudden flow of thick liquid rushed out of his mouth and onto the floorboard below him. He coughed a few times. Tony yelled at him from the driver's seat.

"You screwed up bastard! This is a brand new Mercedes SL 600! Damn!" Ryan was glad he had puked. Tony did not deserve this nice a car. Ryan smiled a little, and apparently Charlie saw it because he rammed his knuckles into Ryan's cheekbone. The momentum created by the man's fist drove Ryan's head against the window. Ryan bit his tongue to transfer the pain. This was going to be a long carride.

XXX

Art started to swerve into the parking lot of the motel, nearly hitting a silver Mercedes. He parked the car very crookedly in an empty space below room 17. Art jumped out of the car, not even bothering to shut the door. Kirsten shoved open her door and tried to get out, but found herself restricted by her seat belt. She threw it off and raced after Art. She found him standing in the doorway to room 17, his mouth gaping.

"Art. Art! Where is he?"

"He- he said he'd be here. Damn it!" He knew the worst had happened. Well, maybe not the worst, afterall, Ryan could still be alive. He knew Tony had taken him.

"What's that?" Kirsten asked, walking over to the bed. There was a stain about the size of a quarter. Kirsten knew it was blood. The phone on the bedside table had some blood on it, too.

"Blood," Art announced from behind her.

"Oh, my...Ryan. I-I think he got hit with the phone."

"That sounds about right." Art leaned over Kirsten's shoulder and touched the blood with his index finger, wiping a bit off.

"What are you doing?" Kirsten asked, a disgusted expression appearing on her face as she became even more unnerved.

"Look." He showed her his finger, with a tiny streak of the blood on it. "This must have only happened a few minutes ago. Whoever broke in did this, I'll bet. Did you see any cars leaving when...oh, shit. That Mercedes. He was probably in it. Figures. The Mercedes is the car of choice for a drugdealer."

"What?" Kirsten yelled, furious with the information she had just received. Art mentally kicked himself for allowing the words to slip out. "My son is involved in drugs? No, no, not Ryan, it can't be. He really is a good kid. Maybe I should have looked into his past..."

"It isn't Ryan," Art said. He had told her it was drugs, he may as well give her the rest. Ryan's life could be at stake, which was of course how it was in the beginning of this whole ordeal, but now more than ever. Especially if the dealers really wanted that money, which Art knew the did. "I'm sorry, Ryan," Art whispered to himself. "Kirsten, it's Trey. He stole some heroin and asked Ryan for help. Anyway, we need to get going if we're going to catch that Mercedes. Come on, I'll tell you the rest in the car!" Art had already begun running out the door, Kirsten close at his heels.

XXX

Ryan grasped his side, hoping to ease the sharp pain he felt. He was gasping for air, but his breaths were so shallow and fast. He felt as though he were being smothered by a pillow.

"Tony, this kid don't look normal. He's all sweaty and ain't breathing right," Charlie noted aloud.

"What the hell do I care?"

"Well, we need a hostage, and if he's dead, he doesn't do us any good."

"They don't know he's dead, you idiot. Besides, we're going to kill him anyway, even if we do get the money."

"What for?"

"To show people everywhere not to mess with us. Now shut up so I can drive." Charlie shrugged and did as he was told. Ryan wondered why Charlie was so weak. He was at least twice Tony's size. The man must have great power, Ryan decided.

"Charlie, on second thought, I need you to make the call."

"Do we have a number?"

"He'll tell you," Tony answered, handing Charlie a cellphone. "Ryan, right? Kid, give old Charlie one of your friends' numbers."

"Why?" Ryan asked, still quite breathless.

"Because I said so, and you're going to be in a lot more pain than you are now if you don't."

"I need...a bet...ter...reason."

"I thought you understood. You are our hostage. What good is a hostage if no one knows we have you? We got demands to make."

"You...let me...talk...to him."

"What? For all I know you could be talking to cops."

"If I do...you can...kill me...right...now."

"How would I know?"

"I'll tell...him...what you...say."

"Then what's the point of you talking to him?"

"Person...al rea...sons."

"Fine, but no hints or code words, got it? And don't be long, minutes cost money."

Charlie handed Ryan the phone, and Ryan dialed Art's cell number.

XXX

"I think I see the Mercedes. It's a few cars up at that red light."

"So what's the plan? We can't just drive through all this traffic, and we can't go over the speed limit in broad daylight."

"Sure we can. Chino doesn't have many cops. But we're going to play it cool. If Tony realizes he's being pursued, especially by a car going fast, he'll shoot Ryan in a heartbeat."

"Oh, my gosh. I certainly never saw any of this coming. Me stalking a bunch of drugdealers and trying to save the life of one of my sons, who could be shot at any moment."

"Now is not the time to stand back and analyze stuff. You're no longer a woman who gets everything her way without a worry or doubt. You are a hardcore Chino chick, got it? That's the kind of mindset you need for this."

"Okay."

"Hold on, cellphone."

"Aren't you going to pull over?"

"We'll lose the car. Hello?"

"It's Ryan."

"Ryan, I...are you okay?"

"For now. Tony...got me in...my motel...room."

"I know, I heard his voice over the phone last time. What are his demands? And why are you so breathless?"

"My rib...is really...hurting me. He wants...six hundred...thousand."

"What? Trey said it was..."

"It's gained...some interest. They want it...by tonight...or else."

Art swallowed, knowing what "or else" meant. He certainly did not want that.

"Okay."

"Are they...okay?"

"They're fine. Most of them are still asleep, I think."

"What do you mean...most?"

"Kirsten's here."

"Let me talk...to her." Art handed over the phone.

"Ryan, I know what's going on. I love you so much, sweetie."

"I love you, too...Mom."

Kirsten was so happy he called her that. She smiled warmly to herself, and tears began to fill her eyes. "Oh, Ryan."

"Tell everyone...I love them...and that they're...my real...family."

"Don't talk like that. We'll get the money."

"I know." But Ryan also knew that it would not keep him alive. He would either die from his own ribs, or be murdered by drugdealers. "Just tell them." Tony motioned for Ryan to hang up. "I gotta go."

"Ryan, wait! Please!" But Ryan had already hung up.

**Bye.**

**Woo! Long chapter! Lotsa info! Hope y'all R&R! **


	19. Chapter 19

**Thanks Leentje and Drkdawn and sarah atwood and Silver Dog Demon and Itty Bitty Evil Ringy of Doom and Papermonsters for your reviews! Hey, some of those are new names to me. Yay! More people! Wow, can y'all believe this is already chapter 19? Does anyone actually read these intros and conclusions? I'm having my first ever movie day tomorrow at my house with friends, so my dad made me clean the whole house, so I vacuumed, organized, swept, and wiped down every room except the dining room, which was already pretty clean. Not to mention how many terrible deadly chemical combinations and fatal gases I created and inhaled attempting to clean my bathroom sink, toilet, tub, counter, and mirrors. It was bad. Anyways, it is also the first time my dad has allowed my to have a boy over. My dad is really strict about boys, but I convinced him because I'm fifteen, there are plenty of girls around (5, to be exact), and he might be gay, but also I've known him since eighth grade. My dad has never met him or seen him except in my yearbooks, though. Anyways, we're going to be watching "Pulp Fiction" and "Rocky Horror Picture Show". Woo! Okay, this is getting kinda long. What can I say? I'm excited! R&R!**

**Dislcaimer: I own nothing b/c soy un perdedor (if you read the intro to chapter 17, you know what that means!) (or if you speak/know Spanish)**

Ryan leaned back against the seat. He was beginning to feel increasingly hot. He did not feel his forehead to see if he had a fever, although he was most certain that he did. But he did not want to seem like a wimp in front of the drugdealers who were all so tough and manly. Ryan started to cough involuntarily. The coughing made his eyes tear up, and his lung burned fiercely. He wrapped his right hand around his mouth and squeeze his jaw, hoping to somehow stop the intensity of each body-rivetting hack. At last the terrifying fit of coughs ended, and the only evidence left was a very sore lung that made Ryan want to burst into tears, but he refused. Tony looked back at him.

"Man, you really are messed up. What's wrong with you?"

"Pierced lung. Broken...and frac...tured ribs."

"Damn. We do that?"

Ryan nodded.

"So...what, do we get you some medical help or something?"

"I could...call my...friend. He's stud...ying med...books."

"Yeah, yeah, give him a call. But don't have him come to us or nothing. Just ask for advice. I ain't taking you to no hospital. In fact, the only reason I'm doing this for you is because you're just a kid still, and you are a tough one, I can tell. And you seem pretty honest and firm. I admire that, even if I should still kill you." Tony threw the phone back to Ryan.

XXX

Art was still following the Mercedes. After a few twists and turns on the streets, only one car separated them. Kirsten glanced over at the concentrating driver.

"So what happens when we do catch up to them? Do we ram the car?"

"No. I figure Ryan's probably in the back seat. There's no way Tony would be alone, and even if he were, he wouldn't trust Ryan to sit right beside him. We'll play it cool and follow the car." As Art finished speaking, he grabbed his vibrating cell phone.

"Ryan?"

"Hey. What can...I do...about...my ribs?"

"To lay down would be the best thing."

"Negative."

"I figured. You need to wrap lots of gauze around your entire ribcage, and put some ice bags in between the layers of gauze."

"Okay."

"How'd you get hold of a phone to ask, anyway?"

"Tony." At the word, Tony sent a glare back at Ryan. Ryan covered the mouthpiece, and told him that his friend just wanted to know whose phone it was.

"That guy's letting you call me for medical help?"

"Yeah. I thought...it was...strange, too."

"You need a hospital, Ry. You sound like you're in really bad shape."

"No...arguments...there."

"What are you symptoms so far?"

"Lots of...pain...I just...got a...migraine...but that...might be...from the...phone or...lead pipe...hit in...the fight. I started...coughing...really...bad a...minute...ago. And I...threw up...but I...think that's...just from...stress or...something."

"Yeah, I don't think a pierced lung causes vomitting. Your ribs are a little too far away to puncture your stomach. Any shallow breathing? Or pain when breathing?"

"Kind of...shallow...always...painful...but mostly...sore lung. Fast...breathing, too."

"Coughing, fast, painful, shallow breathing. Damn it, it could already be too late."

"Too late...for what?"

"You're showing symptoms of Pneumothorax. A collapsed lung. It comes from a some sort of tear in the lung, like a puncture from something, in your case a rib. If you had stayed at the house the puncture would have remained small enough to heal itself, but all this moving around and excitement has given you a condition that, if untreated soon, could become fatal."

Fatal? Ryan could not believe what he was hearing. Actually, he really did not believe it. When he had first left the Cohens for Chino he thought he would be killed. Then he came out of the fight alive. Then when Tony barged into his hotel room, Ryan thought he would be killed. But he found himself still alive. Tony had threatened to kill him in the car, but then allowed Ryan to seek medical advice from Art. And now Art was saying he could die? Ryan denied the possibility. Perhaps he even saw himself immortal. No, he would not go that far.

"What kind...of treat...ment?"

"Surgery. Like I said, if you want to keep your chances good, lay down, wrap yourself in layers of gauze, and get some bags of ice to put between the layers."

"I can't...really...do that."

"I've thought about that. I know you're in a car right now. Tony's silver Mercedes. I know you can't confirm that with Tony right there, but I know it. Give Tony the phone."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Ry. Trust me."

Ryan hesitantly pulled the phone away from his ear and turned his gaze toward the driver.

"Tony...he wants...to talk...to you."

Tony looked back at the still breathless teen, questioningly before grabbing the phone from his hand.

"Who's this?"

"This is Art. Remember?"

"Yeah, yeah. One of the guys in the fight. Used to run with us. What do you want?"

"I want a trade."

"What?"

"Ryan's in bad shape. He needs to be in a hospital. He'll die if he doesn't get surgery on his lung. I'm not really hurt that badly. I've put in stitches, and other than that, I just have some bruises and cuts. What do you say?"

"Give me a minute to think and talk this over with the guys. I'll call you back when I have an answer."

XXX

"What's going on?" Kirsten asked, her voice much more calm than it had been before.

"He hung up. He'll call back. He needs to think about it."

"Art,...are you sure?"

"Kirsten, Ryan's my friend. I want him to live. I think it would be terrible if he was killed by a bunch of scum like them at the fault of his stupid brother. Especially since Ryan has gone through so much hell in his life, and now he's finally got a real family who loves him and doesn't beat the hell out of him everyday. And especially since he actually has a chance at a real life. Besides, I think I could get out of this okay. But there's no way I'll change my mind so let's just not even talk about it. Oh, great, what are they doing now?" Art's eyes followed the Mercedes as it turned into a parking lot in front of a fast food restaurant and parked in a vacant space.

"Should we follow it?"

"Yeah, we'll just park a little further away. I highly doubt they're getting food here."

XXX

"Tony what's happening?"

"The guy wants a trade. Him for this kid."

Ryan became instantly enraged. How dare Art do something like this without consulting Ryan first? Ryan would never have agreed to this. Did Art think Ryan was too weak to handle the situation?

"No." Ryan spoke boldly. "There will...be no...trade."

"Why not? You are in bad shape. Don't you want to be out of this mess?"

"Not if...it means...throwing...him in."

"Kid, don't be a damn hero. Use your brain."

"You already...said you would...kill me. No matter...what. Just to...teach people...a lesson."

"Do you want us to kill you? Would that make you happy? Someone's got to die. Be it you, or Art, or one of your other little gang members. We're going to kill someone whether you like it or not. Don't think you'll all get out just fine. It's either you or one of your friends. And this way, you don't have to choose between your friends. He chose for you."

"But I...know the kind...of car...you drive. And I know...that you'll...kill him...even without...the money. So...I could call...the cops...and you could...not threaten...me since...he's as good...as dead...anyway. I know that. He doesn't. He thinks...he still can't...call cops...and still...has to...give you...money. Think...about that."

"The kid's got a point. Damn."

"What do we do, Tony?" Charlie asked.

"Hey, I hate to break your concentration, but think that car over there is watching us. It parked right after we did, no one got out, and I see some guy and lady staring this way."

"Art didn't say nothing about having any lady with him. Even if it is him, he can't see us through the tinted windows. I'll call him." Tony hit redial on his cell and listened to it ring. As soon as Tony saw the man in the other car pick up his phone, he hung up.

"Fellas, we've been followed."

**Woo! More excitement and action (kinda). What will happen next time? Dun dun duh-nuh! Find out in chapter 20! Woo! (R&R).**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you sarah atwood and drkdawn and Leentje and midnightair and Dogsbody for your reviews! I did have fun with the movie night, and I am glad to see that you read these intros! And the house didn't get too messed up. Except for paper plates and soda cans all over the tables and on the floor. (no carpet stains, thankfully!) My dad decided that the cans were better than liters and the paper plates were better than our plates for so many people because we wouldn't have to do dishes then. Plus, our dining set has four of everything, so I would have felt weird giving four people large plates and two people tea-cup-saucers or bowls. It was fun for me also because I was the hostess, and I ended up baking and slicing three large pizzas (one with everything on it, two with pepperoni only). And for me that was cool because I love baking/cooking, pleasing people, and also my guyfriend (not really a crush, but I think he is cute) kept asking for more. Yay! Plus he kept playing with my little kitten, which I think is great because there just aren't enough cat-loving guys out there. My big fat cat, Tabby, only came in once, and she quickly left, yowling as she did. She's so cute when she wants something. She constantly growls too. It's adorable. Anyway, this is getting kind of long, and you probably want to read something OC-related and see how Ry and the others are doing. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: To own, or not to own? That is the question. Not to own. That is the answer. :)**

Art had guts. But Ryan probably would have done the same thing. After all, what good friend wouldn't have followed a car of drugdealers who were most likely armed to the teeth to save their dying friend? Ryan felt the car pulling out of the parking lot and slowly making its way to the road. Tony was playing it cool, so Art would not know that Tony knew of their following.

XXX

"Hello? Hello?" Whoever it was had hung up.

"Art, they're leaving." Art started his car and cautiously followed behind the Mercedes.

XXX

In the rearview mirror, Tony watched the car pull out behind him. He hit redial on his phone and waited for Art to pick up.

"Art, let me talk to the girl."

"What?"

"The girl sitting next to you. Give her the phone." Tony could feel the impact his words had just had on Art. He could see him swallowing and turning pale with fear and a sudden sense of failure to rescue his friend. He could _taste _his hesitation. Tony watched the driver hand the phone to the passenger, who took it after a brief pause.

"Hello?" Her voice was sweet, a little shaky, but very feminine.

"Hey, sugar. Who are you?"

"You called. Who are you?" she retorted.

"The name's Tony. I'm the guy Art's following. Right in front of you. See me? I'm driving. I'd love to look back at you again, because you are quite a catch, but I need to keep my eyes on the road for now. Who are you, and why are you with Art?"

"I'm Kirsten. I'm hoping to help save the life of the hostage you're holding. I've got your money."

"Oh. Why is a chick carrying the money? How'd you get it?"

"Do you want the money or not?"

"Only if you want to see this kid live. If not, keep the money, but something tells me he means something to you. Why else would a cute, sophisticated woman like you be down here with Art? I used to know Art, and I know he doesn't have a family except for his girlfriend and senile mother. You don't fit either description. Put Art back on."

Ryan did not approve of the way Tony had spoken about Kirsten, but he did not want to give away what a close relationship he had with her. Tony might hurt her, too.

"Have you thought about the trade?" Art asked, his voice sounding as though it were coming through clenched teeth, which was probably true.

"I have. How can I trust a guy who's been following me? How can I trust a guy who turned and left me and my guys? The kid stays. You may as well stop following, unless we're going to make the exchange soon. Figure that out with Kirsten. I'll call you in ten minutes."

XXX

"Kirsten, do you really have the money?"

"I can get it. We need to get to a bank so I can access my account."

"But the money's in there, right? All six hundred grand?"

"Five hundred grand. But my father can give me the rest out of his account."

"Without a problem?"

"The only problem I'll have is convincing him to not ask questions. Give me your phone."

XXX

Caleb Nichol sat in his leather office chair, gazing out a large window. The phone rang. He was not quick to answer, nor was he pleasantsounding.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Dad. I don't have time to talk. I need your account number and your consent to use your account. I need one hundred thousand dollars. I'll pay you back, but you can't ask questions. I need it now."

"Kiki, are you in some kind of trouble? You know I don't just give away money."

"Dad, I'm your daughter. I am in trouble. Just give me the account number."

"Kirsten, what's going-"

"DAD! No questions! I seriously don't have time! This is a life or death situation!"

"Alright. Calm down. You're terrifying me."

XXX

"Art, we on?"

"Yeah. We have the money." Art sat in the car, parked in a bank parking lot, while Kirsten made the withdrawals. He could see her smiling at the person behind the desk and nodding her head. Hopefully, no suspicions would arise.

"Good. Let me talk to the girl."

"You let me talk to Ryan first. Then she talks to him. Then you and she can talk."

"Edgy move, demanding things from me. But it is a good amount I'm getting. Here he is."

"Hello?"

"Ry! We got the money."

"What? No, no, tell...Kirsten I...said no."

"Are you stupid? You'll be alive! We'll all be off the hook. Don't you want that?"

"Kirsten was...not supposed...to know. She can't waste...her money on...me."

"Damn it Ryan! I'm sick of you talking like you're some piece of crap! She loves you! She wants what's best for you! Are you too stupid to see that?"

"Tell her...I said no."

"Tell her yourself. She's right here." Art held out the phone as Kirsten pulled open the door and sat in the passenger seat.

**Oh, hey, I just want to say also that my friend reviewed someone's story (it was a harry potter fanfic), and she very constructively criticized it, not at all insulting or mean. The person wrote my friend back and cussed her out for saying the story was short. I hope that none of you ever do that to anyone who reviews your stories. I certainly never will. My new fanfic is called "Testing him", and it is, of course, about Ryan, and it is, of course, deliciously angsty.**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thank you Sharkie2008 and Ansy Pansy aka Panz and Midnightair and Leentje and Sarah Atwood and Dogsbody and Drkdawn and Koolkerry25 for your reviews! Yay! Chapter 21 is here! Sharkie2008 is officially the first person to be R&Ring both my fanfics. Much gratitude:) So far, I actually do have somewhat of a plot thoughtout for "Testing him". I got three reviews for it just a few hours after I'd posted it. It may be because this time my summary is part of the fanfic and it is pretty thrilling for all us angstlovers. I love being able to live up to my penname!**

**Disclaimer: Nothing.**

Kirsten looked questioningly at the cellphone and the angry Art. She took it.

"Hello?"

"Kirsten."

"Ryan." He could hear her smiling. She was happy about giving up all her money? No, she was happy that he would be safe. No, she was happy about the drugdealers saying he would be. Only the drugdealers had never said that. It was implied by the fact that Ryan was a hostage. Yes the drugdealers had mentioned an exchange, but they never said he would be alive. Ryan swallowed.

"I..." He couldn't tell her not to bring the money. She already had it. And Tony was listening to every word slipping out of Ryan's lips. Besides, Kirsten would never understand. If Ryan told her that he would be dead soon, she would...do something. Ryan didn't know what. Break down into tears? Definitely. Follow after the drugdealers? Most likely. Kill them? Try to save Ryan? Hmmmm. Doubtful.

"You've been...a great mother. Especially...to a guy...like me."

"What do you mean?"

"I know you...didn't approve...when Sandy brought...me to your...home. But then you...took me in as...your own family...I didn't ever...really trust you guys. It was hard...you know? And I was...am...really screwed up."

"You're as much a Cohen as Seth, Sandy, and I. And we all love you. And miss you. It's time to end all this. Put it behind us. Be a family again." Ryan could feel his own eyes tearing up. He almost never cried. He actually wanted to live through this. He wanted all that Kirsten said.

"Okay. I love you. And Sandy. And Seth. And Marissa. Tony needs to talk to you now." Ryan handed the phone to the driver.

"Hello...Kirsten, right? Let's talk exchanging. Ryan here for the six hundred grand. You said you had it. I want it. You know I have Ryan. You want him. I like when people get what they want. So Art's going to take you to the parking lot our little mishap took place in. He'll remember the way. But I warn you now. Bring no one. No cops. Just you, Art, and my money. Understand?"

"One question," Kirsten's voice was unbelievably firm. She was really learning how to handle herself. "What and who will you be bringing?"

"Me, Ed, Charlie, and Ryan."

"That doesn't seem very fair at all. You've got one more person on your side."

"But you're getting Ryan. That will even it out."

"No, see because there's me and Art, and then the money is part of the exchange. Ryan is part of the exchange. But you have three people, where we have two."

"So?"

"So we would like to bring another person of our choice."

"Lady, you should be a negotiator. You have a point. But why should I let you decide all this? I have a life that you care about, and I can execute him any second. I wouldn't get very demanding if I were you."

"That's true, but what if you turn on us? I don't trust you. You don't trust us. Let us bring one more person."

"Fine. But only because we're wasting time, and I have the upper hand anyway. However, this person may not be a cop or other government worker, and the person may not weigh more than two hundred pounds."

"Ummm, okay. When will we be meeting?"

"Midnight. See you then-"

"Wait! I need your word on something. I need you to swear that you will not bring further harm to Ryan."

"Why should I promise that?"

"Because you're absolutely right. I do care a lot about him. And if you really like people getting what they want, and you're getting what you want, then I get what I want. Ryan alive. Deal?" There was silence in response. "DEAL?"

"Uhh, sure."

"I was looking for yes."

"Yes, yes, we have a deal. See you at midnight."

XXX

"So...who are we recruiting?" Art asked, lighting a cigarette as he and Kirsten walked slowly to his front door.

"I'm not sure. Not Marissa. She's too frail. Not Seth, for the same reason. Besides, his sarcasm would get us all killed."

"We can't bring Paul because he's still got a lot of recovering to do. Kirsten, I hate to say this, but we might have to bring Sandy or my girlfriend. The guys are all troublemakers, and the drugdealers wouldn't take kindly to them since they were involved in the fight. My girlfriend is pretty good with words."

"So is Sandy. He's district attorney, so maybe he could negotiate."

"What's there to negotiate? They get the money, we get Ryan."

"Okay. We need to cover all aspects here. The deal is already in place. So you're right, we don't need a negotiator. The drugdealers could turn violent, so we would need muscle. Weapons, even."

"Negative. We can't be armed."

"Why not? Tony never said that. For all we know, he could come packing bombs! I don't trust him. Maybe it's because he's a drugdealer. Maybe it's because he's got Ryan. All I know is I want a gun on hand."

"I'll see what I can do. Until then, I think Sandy is our best bet. He has another advantage. He is emotionally connected to Ryan. Like me and you. Look at how far we've gotten. All that we've risked. Do you think that a complete stranger who's barely met Ryan would have even kept going?"

"You're right. Sandy's our man."

**Okay, I know it's not my longest chapter, but I'm trying to procrastinate a little. I'm not sure how all this will work out. **


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you Ansy Pansy aka Panz and Rach CD McKenzie and Leentje and NaleyBrucasFan (aka Lizzy) and Sarah Atwood and Dogsbody and Midnightair and Drkdawn and Silver Dog Demon for your reviews! I hope this chapter will be really cool for y'all. I feel like I have nothing to work with, but my imagination will help me. Don't freak because I said (er-wrote) that. If I don't like what I write, you won't see it. So, I did like what a wrote, I guess. Woo! Oh, by the way, if you get the chance, pick up the Trapt CD, the new one is pretty sweet, and the old one, too, but I've listened to that one way too many times. Anyways, their lyrics are pretty well thoughtout and different, a few are a little cliche, but their music kicks butt too. Plus, they write all of it theirselves, which I find is a rare quality these days. Ooh, also Papa Roach. Me and my dad finally agree on a band! Oh, yeah, sooooooo sorry about the wait. Like I said, lack of imagination, plus school just started again, and in colorguard we had our first winterguard dance class, and we painted our tarp (it's blue!), and I got to help my friend cornstarch it (so it doesn't stick) and load and unload it, which is part of why I've been so busy, but thankfully there's MLK day (I know this site is worldwide, so if you don't know what that is, it's celebrating this guy who gave a speech about why black people should be equal to white people).**

**Disclaimer: I don't own; I rent. **

Kirsten took a deep breath before slowly opening Art's front door. Sandy, Marissa, and Seth were all sitting around a table having breakfast. At first glance, it appeared that nothing out of the ordinary was going on, and Kirsten found herself wondering if they had forgotten that Ryan had been kidnapped. Oh, wait. They didn't know that part. She walked closer, and all three of them, and Art's girlfriend, looked up. They were all pale, with gloomy expressions. Kirsten opened her mouth to speak, but she couldn't find the words to say. Seth broke the silence.

"Where's Ryan?"

Kirsten looked at Art, still unsure of how to give them the bad news. He nodded.

"Seth, honey, sit down. I have something very important and very complicated to tell all of you. You won't like it, and you'll probably hate me for not doing more than I did, but you need to hear it."

"Wait, Kirsten," Art cut in. He looked around the table at the curious faces. "Before she tells you what you're about to hear, just know that if you let any emotions run rampant, there will be hell to pay."

Kirsten and Art exchanged nervous glances before Kirsten cleared her throat and spoke.

XXX

Ryan grasped his side. The pain was murder. He was beginning to think Art was right. He needed the surgery _bad_. But he refused to allow Tony to make the trade, which was fine with Tony since Ryan had reasoned it all out with him. But now Kirsten would be paying her lifesavings and part of her father's money. Ryan didn't want that either. He had to do something, which was an idea that was not even reassuring to himself. An injured guy dealing with three buff drugdealers. Ha!

XXX

"So, everyone understands that we can't bring weapons or cops or anyone else, right?" Sandy nodded in response to his wife's question. She seemed unbelievably cool throughout her explanation.

"Marissa, Seth, I know you guys would go to the ends of the earth for Ryan, but you can't come. He could be killed. I just need you to fully realize that before you try something stupid like following us. Or calling the police. By doing anything as risky as that you would be toying with his life. I just want him home safe. I'm sure you guys wouldn't want it any other way. Sandy, are you okay with coming along?"

"Do we really have any other option?"

"I'm glad we're seeing eye to eye," Art said, surprised at the way they had taken the news. "Sandy, I don't know what special talents you have, but I from what I've heard about you you're good with words and legalities. And the last thing we need is a stuttering idiot creating all kinds of loopholes in this situation."

"But I thought you've already made the deal."

"We need you to talk it over with us in the car on the way, just in case we've screwed up somewhere."

"Even if there are no loopholes, do you really think revising it will help at all? These guys are criminals! Like they're even going to be true to their word!"

"That's true. And there's absolutely nothing we can do about that. But if they want the money, they have to give us an alive Ryan."

"Or they could pull weapons."

"Sandy, I love that you're thinking, and they're all good thoughts, but right now they aren't helping. Tony and his guys have Ryan's life. They make the rules. They say no weapons, we don't bring weapons. They say no cops, we bring no cops. They say we'll get Ryan alive, we're just going to have to trust them. Besides, Paul's a drugdealer, and he's never once lied to me. I know that doesn't make you feel much better, but what other choice do we have? They wouldn't allow the trade. Do you have any other suggestions?"

Sandy thought a moment. No weapons. No cops. Just an exchange. No trading out hostages. Wait.

"Subtle weapons."

"What?"

"Subtle weapons. Pens, broken glass, rocks. Just in case the drugdealers do turn violent, we've got to have some kind of defense."

"Sandy, what if they get a gun? A piece of broken glass isn't going to help us then."

"You said that during the fight they didn't allow guns."

"But they used mine to shoot Paul."

"Because it was right there. None of them brought their own guns then when they knew the other team would be armed, so why would they bring guns tonight when they think we'll be completely vulnerable?"

"Yeah, yeah, you've got a point. But what about when they pat us down? I know they'll do that. They're smart."

Kirsten's eyes widened as she recalled the incident between her and AJ.

"Glass bottles."

"Huh?" Sandy and Art asked in unison.

"Glass bottles. We bring some glass bottles of Root Beer or something. We'll say we got thirsty on the way."

"What do glass bottles have to do with this?"

"We can use them as weapons. Smash them and use the jagged points to cut the drugdealers."

"Kirsten, everyone knows that only happens in the movies."

"No it doesn't! I used to think that, too, until I used a broken beer bottle on Ryan's stepdad." Everyone stared at her, thinking she was stupid. "I still have it! It's in my car!"

"Why would you keep a broken beer bottle?"

Kirsten hadn't thought about that when she'd taken it with her.

"I don't know, I just did. Look trust me, they work."

"Fine. We'll stop at a gas station and grab three Root Beers."

XXX

Ryan began to feel dizzy again. His stomach churned, and Ryan knew what was coming.

"Tony, pull over."

"What? Why?"

"I gotta puke." Ryan felt himself thrown into the window as Tony swerved recklessly to the side of the road and slammed on the brakes.

"Open the door! Open the damn door!" Tony screamed, obviously terrified of having another pool of vomit in the carpet of his car. Ryan shoved the door open in the nick of time and leaned over, placing one foot on the ground for balance, and spilled his guts. When he had finished, he stared at the ground, attempting to rid the rest of his nausea. That was when he noticed a dirty fork that was missing half its handle and one prong. Ryan grabbed it without a second's hesitation and shoved it into his sock, hoping that Tony was not watching. He pulled himself back into the vehicle and shut the door as the car drove back onto the road.

**I hope that's enough to satisfy y'all's hunger for angsty right now, because if I don't update again on Monday, then I don't know when I'll be able to.**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks Silver Dog Demon and Midnightair and Drkdawn and Rach CD Mckenzie and Leentje and Anamalia-fear and Dogsbody and crazy4thesun and Sarah Atwood and Papermonsters for your reviews! Hey, we got 2nd place in our colorguard competition! Got another one on February 11 in Magnolia, TX.**

**Disclaimer: Shockingly, I don't own anything!**

"So, what's the plan then?" Sandy asked, turning to his wife. She looked at Art, who, oddly enough, was looking at her, curiousity on his face. It was near midnight, and all three of them looked exhausted.

"Woah, wait, why are you looking at me?"

"You told us to get the glass bottles for weapons, you must have some kind of idea."

"No, I just thought that if stuff gets...violent, we can use them." Kirsten inhaled deeply, with much discomfort. She was becoming quite claustrophobic in the little car that now contained three people.

"Sorry, the AC's still broken," Art said. "Look, this is the plan. Since there are no real ideas going on here except 'what-ifs', then we're just going to meet them there, park the car, get out nice and calm, they'll say some stuff, we'll nod and smile, and the exchange will go down. Then we'll thank them, hope that they leave first, then we'll get Ryan to a hospital."

"Why are we hoping they'll leave first?"

"Please, they're pretty cold-blooded. They'd kill us as soon as we turn our backs."

Kirsten swallowed, nervously. Then she noticed something. "Hey, Art. Is that...?" Kirsten squinted at the windshield.

"Holy crap, I think it is."

Sandy did not know what the two were staring at so...wonderously. All he saw was a silver Mercedes.

XXX

Ryan kept reminding himself of his plan. What if he messed up? What if things didn't happen the way he pictured they would? What if they killed him? Well, he would probably die anyway from his lung problem. Or they would kill him, just to show who was boss. It was like they said, someone had to die.

It was dark outside the car, and Charlie and Ed had grown weary of the long drive. Tony was still pretty awake, but then again, he was actually driving. Ryan leaned over and touched the fork in his sock, checking to make sure that it was still there.

"Woah, woah, what are you doing?" Tony asked, quickly. _Does he see? _Ryan wondered. _Does he know what I'm going to do? _"Cause if you're about to puke, I'll pull over. I don't want your nasty guts in my car. At least any more of them." Tony shuddered at the thought of having to clean his carpet of the previously barfed partially digested food.

"No, I...just started...to fall..asleep."

"Your breathing sounds pretty bad. Don't die on me. I really need that money."

Ryan had to do it. He needed to act now.

XXX

"They're speeding up. I'm going to keep following them," Art said, pressing the gas pedal closer to the floorboard.

"Well, it only makes sense that we should follow them. We're all going to the same place." Kirsten's words made Sandy realized what the two had been watching.

"Wait, that's them? In that car? With Ryan?" Kirsten nodded, solemnly.

"Can we ram them?"

"Hell no," Art nearly yelled. "Look, they'd kill him and probably us right on the spot. Plus, even if that wasn't what I was most worried about, I'd be scared of hurting Ryan. He's probably in the backseat."

XXX

Ryan slowly pulled the fork out of his sock. He put his hand by his side so the fork remained unseen. Taking a few very necessary breaths, Ryan squeezed the fork and mentally prepared himself for what was about to happen. He felt the tension pouring into every part of his body. Then, he struck.

Ryan's elbow flew up to Charlie's nose, blood spewing onto the back of Tony's seat. Ryan quickly moved forward and wrapped his arm around Ed's neck, prodding him with the fork.

"What the...? What are you doing?" Tony cried, becoming angry.

"Pull the car over." Ryan did not even need a breath between the words. Or maybe he did, but his strength, pride, and emotions ignored the bare needs.

"What?"

"Pull the car over...or Ed gets it."

"Gets what? You going to break his neck?"

"I'll jab this fork...right into his carotid artery."

"And what makes you think I care?"

"Nice try. Pull over." When Tony did not reply, Ryan shoved the fork slightly into Ed's flesh, drawing tiny drops of blood. "Pull over!" Tony just stared at him, as if the teenager had lost his mind, which may have been true. But at that instant, a horn blew, and by the time Tony's head whipped back around to see the road, a truck tore through the car.

XXX

"Hey, what the hell are they doing?" Art asked, concerned with the way the Mercedes swerved into the left lane of oncoming traffic. Kirsten gasped as the car was broken through by a pair of different headlights. The Mercedes, what was left of the right side, rolled onto the middle of the road, and Art slammed on the brakes. Sandy watched in horror as part of the left side of the car fell to the ground and two things fell with it. Two bloody massacres of what appeared to be people.

Art reached the totaled vehicle first, followed by Kirsten, then Sandy.

"It...it's Tony. This one is Tony!" Art pointed at the head that was attached to part of the torso. "And that one is...uh, Charlie, I think."

Kirsten vomitted at the sight of the hacked up bodies. She was happy that neither of them was her son, but at the same time she was disgusted by the smell of blood and the now engraved image of peices of people.

"Then, Ryan's still in the car!" Sandy exclaimed, racing to the car, that had finally come to rest on its side. Since nearly half the car was on the other side of the road, Sandy did not need to remove a door or kick out a window to see his Ryan. He stared in at the blood-covered, unconscious teen, and felt himself grow dizzy and weak.

**Ha ha! I keep you in suspense! **


	24. Chapter 24

**Thank you Rach CD McKenzie, NaleyBrucasFan (aka Lizzy), Drkdawn (I made this one longer :), KoolKerry25, Anamalia-fear, Ansy Pansy aka Panz, Crazy4thesun, and Kokomocalifornia and Leentje and Princesssparkle88 (read the whole story in one day! I'm amazed and flattered!) for your great reviews! I hear the car accident was a surprise twist to some of you! Yay! That was the point, my dear friends. I'm glad I am able to keep you all on the edge of your seats! **

**Disclaimer: nshoowch lockc tocch contago, scalawag. That's Petorian for I don't own anything, scalawag. (Family Guy!)**

Sandy didn't notice Art standing right behind him. He didn't notice anything. Just Ryan. Lying unconscious. A groan came from the passenger seat. A man with a kitchen utensil rammed in his throat. A stream of burgundy oozed from the hole. Art shook Sandy.

"Come on, we need to get him out." Art was trying to be calm, but his heart fluttered uncontrollably, and his words were whimpered, not spoken clearly. Sandy and Art wrapped their arms around Ryan, gently, careful not to get near the lower half of his ribcage. That left the chest and legs, and Art already saw blood on both parts. Kirsten came up behind them, crying hysterically, begging to know that her son was alright. Art and Sandy tried to ignore her, not wanting to further harm Ryan by gaining too much adrenaline. Ambulance sirens were blaring down the road in no time.

"Okay, Sandy, when the paramedics come, you have to let them do their job. Kirsten, that goes for you too. I know you both love him, I love him too, but his best bet is for them to help him. They've got the technology and more knowledge than any of us." Art's voice seemed unsure, but he was certain that was for the best.

He and Sandy had managed to pull Ryan out of the car. The teenager know lie on the road while Kirsten ran her hand instinctively through his hair. She could do nothing but that, along with her insane weeping. Sandy occasionally reached down and touched Ryan's face, wishing he could help the boy who seemed now so vulnerable and helpless. For once, Ryan was incapable. Incapable of anything. And Sandy hated it that way. Ryan was supposed to be the strong one. This...this was wrong.

"Sir, we need to help him." A paramedic informed Sandy, who had been lost in his own mind for the past five minutes. Art helped Sandy up and led him to where Kirsten stood a few feet away. She watched the paramedics meticulously. One took Ryan's wrist for a few seconds, looked up at another, and shook his head. Kirsten felt herself collapse. Art caught her as Sandy tried to maintain his own balance. _Dead_? How could Ryan be _dead_? Art had thought of the possibility so many times, but it still seemed so unrealistic. No, not unrealistic. _Impossible. _Ryan was far too strong. Had been through far too much in his life to die in a car accident. Besides, if he really was dead, then why were the paramedics still working on him?

It was then that Sandy grabbed Art's arm.

"Art, he's alive. It...it was just a weak pulse. Shock, I think."

Art sighed in relief, wiping a tear from his cheek and nearly dropping Kirsten in the process. The paramedics had relieved Ryan of his shirt and were currently wrapping his chest in gauze. While two paramedics did this, one other cut away at Ryan's pants according to blood stains, and he bandaged slight wounds like scratches from the car door.

At the car, two more paramedics from a separate ambulance, were pulling Ed out, but they discovered that the man was nearly dead due to a fork. The police were speaking to the driver of the truck that had struck the Mercedes. Finally, as if the world had fastforwarded to the specific point in time, Ryan was loaded into one of the ambulences, on a stretcher. Sandy felt much better watching the ambulance drive off, hurriedly, to a hospital, where Ryan would receive the help he required. In the meantime, Sandy and Art worked to wake Kirsten. She moaned and came to, briskly demanding to know the location and health of Ryan. Sandy explained that the teenager was on the way to a hospital.

"Kirsten, he'll make it, okay? He'll be fine." Sandy felt cliched and cheap saying these things to his wife, especially since he didn't even contemplate the words he'd spoken. He couldn't.

Sandy attempted to force his mind to visit other places, and Seth immediately came up. Poor teen had no idea what was going on. Where his parents and brother were. All Seth and Marissa knew was that Ryan was involved in a hostage situation and could be killed by Tony, but they didn't know about the car accident. That Ryan was on his way to a hospital, or maybe even...a morgue.

Almost on cue, Kirsten gasped and said, "We've got to tell Marissa and Seth! I feel like we haven't seem them in ages! They must be terrified! I'm a terrible mother!" She burst into tears. Sandy felt so confused. Art must have sensed it because he walked toward the man and pulled out his cell phone.

"Sandy, sit down. I'll call Seth and Marissa, okay?" Sandy nodded and obeyed.

XXX

Seth's phone rang like a whistle penetrating his worries.

"Oh, yeah, hello?" His voice was hurried and anxious.

"Seth?"

"Art? What's going on? You guys have been gone for a while, I was freaking.

"We're, we're..." They weren't fine or okay or good. What was the word? "We're a little freaked, too, actually."

"What? Why? What happened? Did the exchange work?"

"...There was no exchange, Seth."

"What? What do you mean? Is Ryan..." Seth swallowed the lump in his throat, fearing the worst of his brother. Marissa leaned in, wondering why Seth's face had become so pale and his eyes tear-filled.

"We were on our way. We saw Tony's car in front of us, and it just started swerving. It got hit by a truck. Seth, the car was ripped in half. Ryan was in the back."

"He...he _was_ in the back? You mean, you got him out, didn't you? He's fine, isn't he? Just a few little scratches?" Seth's voice rose to a near squeak, and he sniffled. But why should he be so upset? This was Ryan they were talking about. Ryan the Great. Ryan the Impenetrable Force. Ryan the Teenage Boy who had developed some fatal type of lung problem since the big gang fight.

"He's not in the car anymore; we got him out. But he's going to a hospital. He was...out cold and looked pretty bad. But he was still alive-"

"You mean _is_. He _is_ still alive." Beside Seth, Marissa was already weeping bitterly, her head on his bony shoulder.

"Yeah. Look, I don't know anything else right now. We're about to head up to the hospital ourselves. We're going to follow an ambulance there, and we'll call you and give you directions. I gotta go, it's about to leave."

"Wait, Art! Before you go, what about Tony and the other guys?"

"They're dead," Art smiled at the thought and knew Seth probably did, too. He hung up and lightly tapped on Sandy's arm.

"Sandy, Kirsten, let's go. Sulk later, pray now."

**Woo! I misspelled ambulance like four times before I noticed it. **


	25. Chapter 25

**Thank you Dogsbody and Chinoryan and Ansy Pansy aka Panz and Sarah Atwood and Drkdawn and Princesssparkle88 and Leentje and Kirsan and Silver Dog Demon and Pen Liddin and Marei for your reviews! I'll cut right to the chase, since I feel that the waiting room scene would only be stalling on my part, and very boring. I'm sure everyone knows that Ryan's friends and family are panicking. There's the whole scene summed up in one sentence. Hope you're happy. This may be the end of my fanfic. We'll see.**

The waiting room was torture. Anticipation-filled family members, scorning themselves over endangered loved ones. The Cohens, Art, and Marissa were now part of that. The hours passed bitterly. Silence except for the weeping and occasional reassuring pat on someone's back. Then the doctor came.

"Are you the family of Ryan Atwood?" From the seriousness of the man's voice, Kirsten began to feel faint again. Sandy stood and attempted to appear somewhat composed and calm.

"Yes."

"Along with several other smaller injuries, Ryan has sustained a pneumothorax. Basically, a broken rib of his punctured one of his lungs, causing the lung tissue that separates the lungs and chest wall to collapse. Air has leaked through the tissue into his pleural space. This is fatal, and the procedure to fix it involves a tube and suction to remove that air. Recovery for him should take a while, but only ten days or so in the hospital. Now aside from that nasty business, he has some fractured ribs, a broken wrist, a concussion, a fractured arm, sprained ankle, minor cuts, scratches, bruises." The doctor's words brought utter relief to the five friends. Ryan was alright. He would not die. He would be home in a matter of days. Just long enough for the cops to get a straight story on the whole Tony situtation. Sandy knew Ryan would not want to talk; the kid was so private all the time, and he was injured now. Talking would be quite an annoyance. Marissa's voice interrupted Sandy's thoughts.

"Will we be able to see him?" Her voice was quiet, innocent, and highly concerned.

"We'd prefer you didn't, actually. He won't be awake anyway. We've given him several different types of drugs to ease the pain and keep him in a state of unconsciousness. Trust me, it's better that way. The soonest you can see him is probably tomorrow."

"But doctor, it's four in the morning now! You're really going to keep him sleeping for twenty hours? Isn't that rather comatose?"

"The surgery Ryan has gone through is very serious. I mean, he has been in a car accident, and whether you like it or not, his recovery is going to recover a whole lot of rest. Nearly half his ribs are broken! And the ones that aren't broken are fractured. He's much happier asleep than awake, I can assure you that." The doctor stopped for a moment and took some breaths to calm himself. It had been such a long night. He had had many more patients than usual, and he was exhausted. He lowered his voice, apologetically and finished. "Look, you folks seem real nice, but waiting around here isn't going to do anybody a bit of good. Why don't you go on home? You all look like you could use some rest yourselves."

"But what if Ryan wakes up? Someone needs to be here for him!"

"Miss, that's what nurses are for. They'll take great care of him, and anytime they see him awake, they'll just refresh his drug supply."

Kirsten gave up and nodded. The doctor left.

XXX

"Mom, why are we just leaving him back there?" Seth whined from a few feet away from her. Art had set up a palette of sheets and blankets since the beds were all taken by Paul,

"Seth, you heard the doctor. There's nothing we can do for Ryan right now. Really, there's nothing we can do until he's back safe at home with us."

"So why are we leaving Chino then?"

"Seth, I told you, we aren't leaving until we can see Ryan. Art's being kind enough to let us stay longer at his home. But afterward, we'll take Ryan back home. Now try and go to sleep. If you really want to see Ryan tomorrow, you don't want to scare him looking like you haven't slept in days."

"But that's just it; I haven't slept since we got here. I can't sleep. It's too hard."

"Kirsten, Seth," Sandy bellowed from beside them, "none of us have slept. Just try harder. Ryan's in great hands right now. He's fine. Just pretend he's at a sleepover or something."

"Ew, Dad, guys don't have sleepovers! We have manly get-togethers!" A few chuckles arose from around Seth.

"Finally, that Seth-sarcasm has returned! I was beginning to miss it!" Sandy said through his laughter and that of the others.

"Really?"

"Well, maybe not." More chuckles. _Maybe everything will be okay, afterall._

XXX

Ryan felt himself waking. He felt some pain, but not as much as before. More than anything else he felt numb. What had AJ done to him this time to land him back in the hospital? Did Ryan even want to remember? Then it all came flooding back to him. Trey's phone call. The trip to Chino. The talk with Art. Lying to the Cohens and Marissa about where he was. Staying with Paul. Doing cocaine. Finding Trey's beaten body on the porch. Refusing to leave even when Trey tried to persuade him. Paul getting the boys together. The fight. Waking up in pain from his beating. Finding out everyone would be okay. Seeing the Cohens and Marissa at Art's house. Running off to the motel. Being kidnapped by Tony and his drugdealers. Vomitting. Pain from his lung. Phone calls and negotiations. The car accident.

A nurse wandered into the room and stared at Ryan, hesitant to speak. "Mr. Atwood, you're awake. Uh, hold on a moment while I check your IV here," she said stepping across the room and injecting something into the bag dangling above Ryan's head. The liquid forced its way into Ryan's veins, thrusting Ryan back into blackness.

**I know it is short, but I'm not sure I want to end it yet. I might throw in another twist. Maybe not. I don't know. **


	26. Chapter 26

**Thank you Skankyxxinnuendo and Sarah Atwood and KoolKerry25 and Ansy Pansy aka Panz and Marei and Elfgirl83 for reviews! Seriously, seeing you familiar people on my email list really psyched me out! I love that you guys noticed I'd updated! Yay! Know what's funny? Okay, so Ryan got in this really nasty car wreck, and I was involved in my first car wreck this summer. This lady just rammed into my friend's sister's car with us in the back. Her car (the one we were in) spun around a couple times and finally stopped with the back bumper up on a curb. It was crazy. Anyway, it's been awhile. Hey that's the name of a song! But it has, I didn't realize that it had been about 3 months. I did update Testing Him a couple days ago (literally, a couple days ago). So check it out if you've got the time and interest. Until then, sit back and enjoy what is rightfully yours for the, uh, enjoyment. And I am really sorry it took me so long, I hope I haven't lost too many readers. I've just had no ideas lately. But I guess it takes just typing that first sentence of the chapter to really get this mind going. Read!**

**Disclaimer: "Own" is such a powerful word. But I own nothing, so shut up.**

Marissa slipped out from under the covers. She was still having trouble sleeping, thinking of the teenager she loved so much being in some hospital bed right now. And while she knew he was unconscious, she also knew that if he were to wake up without a nurse nearby, he was be scared, alone, and in a great deal of pain. How could she call herself his friend let alone his girlfriend when she knew that and still was far from him? She had to get to him. Now. And stay with him, at least in the waiting room.

"Marissa?" Kirsten's voice was small, but unmistakable. "Sweetheart, what's the matter?"

"I-I can't sleep." She trusted Kirsten and knew she could tell her exactly how she felt and what was going through her mind. Kirsten pushed her own sheets away from her body and stood.

"Let's take a walk, sweetie." Kirsten placed her arm around Marissa's shoulders, and the two quietly left Art's house. "I can't stop thinking about him either," Kirsten informed the girl. "The boys are just sound asleep, and you and I can't get a wink. I know they're worried about him, too, but they seem to better understand the doctor's words than us women. I guess, being women, we are naturally a lot more nurturing and worry-filled, and that's what really keeps us up, wondering what's going to happen, knowing he'll never be the same, realizing that we have no idea the kind of hurt he must be going through, physically and mentally. This whole thing...it just shouldn't have happened." Kirsten heard herself give a small chuckled. "Well, I guess that's obvious. It involved several crimes and bad people." Kirsten felt the tears well up, and her voice changed as the lump made its way into her throat. "But why did it have to involve him? He's such a good kid, and everything bad happens to him, no matter how wrong it is." The tears were falling now. Marissa looked at the woman, sympathetically. Kirsten's face was red, her muscles were tensed, the tears were slowly traveling down her cheeks, her lips were tightly shut, and her hair was still amess from when she had been laying on the floor trying to sleep.

"I know. I hate it, too. He's one of the sweetest guys I've ever known, and I've known a lot of guys." Marissa bit her lip. "I just feel like I should be there. I need to. Even though the doctor says he'll be fine, I just don't want to cause him any more pain by...by being gone. By being here while he's there."

"I feel the same way. I want more than anything right now to just drive up to the hospital and sit next to him and hold his hand and tell him everything is going to be alright." Kirsten sniffled, and her voice became rough and hoarse as more tears fell from her eyes. "But I don't think I can believe that."

Marissa felt it necessary to reassure Kirsten. She refused to consider the option that things would always be bad, which was how she interpretted the words that Kirsten's mouth had just emitted. "Kirsten, stop it. Things will go back to normal. You'll see. In a couple weeks, Ryan will be back to smiling and laughing and horsing around with Seth and just being himself, that radiant boy that you know and love. You've got to remember that Ryan's had such a tough past, this probably lines right up with his other bad experiences. Drugdealers, Trey, crime, threats, sounds like Chino to me. He lived there for so long, I mean he was bound to fall back into his old life at some point. Sure it wasn't his fault, but it happened. In a few weeks everything will be practically normal again, and in a few months, this whole ordeal will just be another bad experience in the life of Ryan Atwood. And while it may sound repetitive and cliched, Ryan's really strong, he'll make it through this. At least physically, we know that's true right now. When he wakes up tomorrow, we can talk to him and help him through this mentally and emotionally."

"If we can get through today. I just want to be near him so badly."

"Would it help if we took a drive up to the hospital? If nothing else, we would know that we were only a couple rooms away from him in the waiting room."

"I think that might make me feel a little better. Even though we can't be in his room, we'll know that we're close by. Would it make you feel better?" Marissa and Kirsten stopped walking and turned around to go back to Art's house.

"Yeah, I really think it would. Besides, if we get tired, we can sleep there." Kirsten smiled and looked out onto Art's neighborhood and the lonely street that connected the houses. A black truck whizzed by. Kirsten gasped.

"That truck, I've seen it before." She rubbed her face and thought for a moment before realizing who the owner was. "Marissa, we've got to get back to Art's now and get the SUV!"

"Why?" Marissa asked, her voice full of confusion and slight panic. "Whose truck was that?"

"Ryan's stepfather's. I saw it in his driveway the day I confronted him? What if he was in on this? What if he's going to the hospital right now to hurt Ryan? Come on!" Kirsten broke into a sprint, and Marissa tried to keep up but lagged behind by several feet.

XXX

"Okay, he was headed in this direction," Kirsten muttered, her eyes traveling all over the road. Marissa was pinned to her seat, breathing heavily to remain calm as Kirsten sped through the neighborhood like a crazy woman. "I swear if that bastard gets anywhere near Ryan, I'll kill him. I'll slit his ugly throat again, and this time I won't spare any blood..." Marissa was terrified. Who was this woman? She certainly could not be the fun, smart blonde that always thought logically and made the best of things no matter what. This person was entirely too violent and scary. A nausea swept over Marissa, and she found herself too fearful of asking Kirsten to pull over. Just as the teenager was about to retch, Kirsten hit the brakes at a gas station. Marissa threw her door open and vomitted all over the ground beneath her. Entirely oblivious to the girl's sudden illness, Kirsten jumped out of the car and charged toward the mini-mart, where a large man was exitting and walking toward his truck. He had a case of beer in each hand and slowly placed them in the passenger seat of the truck. He slammed the door, and before he even had a chance to take a step, he was rammed by an insane woman. He hit the concrete hard, and the psycho blonde on top of him began punching him over and over.

"You were about to hurt him weren't you?" she screamed at him as she beat him. "Stay away from him!" Her fist flew back and forth, drawing blood from his lips and nose and bruising his cheeks and forehead. She was out of control.

Marissa, coughed up the last of her stomach contents and wiped her mouth. She sat up, dizzy. What was happening by the mini-mart?

XXX

The young man handed the change to the customer. "Thanks, have a good night." As the man left with his beer, the clerk rubbed the bridge of his nose. He was exhausted. He had been working since three pm that day. The guy that was supposed to have the night shift called in sick, and the young clerk had no choice but to fill in for him. He was so tired. Had he even given his customer the right amount of change? The clerk shook his head. His mind was so tired, he wasn't thinking straight. It was nearly seven am. The third guy's shift was about to start. The clerk gladly grabbed his coffee and drank the last of it, throwing the paper cup in the trash can below the counter. He looked outside. The scene took a few seconds to register. A woman was beating a man. The clerk's eyes widened. What was he supposed to do? In the few months he had been working at the mini-mart, he had never faced a situation like this. Should he call the cops? He squinted at the horrific beating that was taking place. No, the cops would never arrive in time. He had to scare them off. The clerk grabbed the emergency rifle and headed outside.

XXX

Marissa realized exactly what was going on. She leapt over the enormous pile of vomit on the ground and raced toward Kirsten. Someone suddenly emerged from the min-mart, carrying a gun. Marissa stopped dead in her tracks and gasped. "KIRSTEN!" she screamed.

XXX

"Stop right there," the clerk said in an inaudible voice. He was too terrified to be loud. The gun was shaking in his hands. "I-I said stop," he repeated, trying to be a bit louder. He had no intentions of pulling the trigger on the woman, he could never do that. He just wanted her to stop hitting the man and leave. But the woman had a strong will and was a fierce fighter. The clerk stepped closer, but lost his footing.

A shot rang out.

**YES! I told you I might throw in another twist! Ha ha ha ha! Bask in wonder and suspense until I update again! I'll try to make it sooner than this update.**


	27. Chapter 27

**Thanks Ansy Pansy aka Panz and Skankyxxinnuendo (your head knows best!) and Greenfrog and Dogsbody and Leentje and Chiclete for your reviews! Ah, it's good to be back and see y'alls stuff in my inbox.**

The clerk stepped closer but lost his footing.

A shot rang out.

Marissa screamed as Kirsten fell quickly to the pavement. The clerk stood there, becoming pale, gun still in hand. What had he done?

XXX

Marissa, crying hysterically, raced the rest of the way to Kirsten's limp body. AJ groaned, glad to be rid of the pesky woman that had hitherto been viciously beating him. Marissa slipped her arms under Kirsten's back and tried to sit her up.

"Kirsten! Kirsten please open your eyes!" Kirsten moaned softly in reply. The clerk remained standing still with his mouth gaping. Marissa stared up at him. "Well what are you waiting for? Call an ambulance!" Stumbling all over himself, the frightened young clerk hurried back inside the mini-mart. She turned her attention back to Kirsten.

"That was so scary," Kirsten grumbled as she sat all the way up and put a hand to her aching forehead.

"Kirsten, the cashier guy is calling an ambulance. Tell me where you're...hit and if there's anything I can do." Kirsten gave Marissa a funny look.

"I'm not hit, sweetie. I think I was just scared by the gunshot. I think I fainted for a moment." Marissa appeared confused and looked to Kirsten's hip.

"Then where is all this blood coming from?" Kirsten gasped and looked down as well. Beside her, AJ was groaning again, this time grasping at the bullet wound in his side. He winced in pain. Kirsten and Marissa stared in silence. Was this a good thing? Would he die? The clerk appeared.

"I-I called them, and there's one on the way. Jeez, miss, I'm...I..." he ran a trembling hand through his blonde hair. Then he broke down. "I swear I didn't mean to! The gun just went off! I'd never shoot a person, let alone a lady!" The tears were pouring from his red eyes as he fell to his knees.

"You didn't hit me. You hit him." Kirsten nodded at AJ.

XXX

"Well, at least that takes care of him," Seth said on the way home from the police station. Kirsten and Marissa were in the backseat with Sandy, while Art drove.

"No it doesn't," Sandy replied. "He isn't going to jail, Seth. He's in the hospital, being treated for the gunshot wound."

"Right. And you're sure he won't be able to get to Ryan?"

"Yes, Seth. The police know the entire situation, and they've agreed to keep them far apart and keep a watch on AJ at all times. There will be a security guard in his room every second of every day until he's released."

"Then he'll go to jail, right?"

"No. He didn't have anything to do with this whole mess. They've got nothing on him."

"Mom, what's going to happen to you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you were beating up AJ, isn't that assault?"

"Seth, as much as I always tell you to tell the truth, I was a bit..._hazy_ on that whole fight."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...I lied to the police about what happened. Marissa and the clerk were the only witnesses, and they were both too shaken up to recall much, and I said

that I didn't remember anything when I woke up after I fainted."

"And the cops bought it?"

"They really don't have anything to go on besides witness testimony, and since none of us could help there, they had nothing."

"What about AJ's testimony?"

"AJ isn't credible," Sandy cut in. "His record is far too bad. No one will take him seriously."

"So all we need to worry about is Ryan." Sandy and Kirsten exchanged glances at Seth's words. Sandy finally smiled and broke the silence. "No, kiddo, we don't have to worry about Ryan. Like I said, AJ's room will be guarded."

"What, by some kind of mall cop? Dad, that's not enough!"

"Seth," Kirsten cut in. "AJ isn't dumb enough to try and leave his room. He won't be allowed to because hospitals don't just let their patients walk around."

"Imagine all the people who would skip out on the bill!" Sandy laughed. "Besides, what have they got to leave for anyway? Their food's delivered! And injured people get an escape from responsibilities because they've just got to recover. Ryan's going to be fine."


End file.
